


Discovery

by Aearyn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, rape mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 43,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aearyn/pseuds/Aearyn
Summary: An Inquisition scout is stationed in the Frostback Basin, and is none too pleased about the camp's lofty guest...





	1. Chapter 1

Evra permitted herself a small smile as they began to bolster the defences that were already loosely in place around this camp. It would be larger than their usual spots – log fortifications all around, more than enough room for all the scouts, and the "Professor" who was on his way with Scout Harding.

She rolled her eyes yet again when she thought of Ser Fancy-Britches – taking Lace away from her main duties to escort him and his entourage to this out-of-the way location, just so he could "advise" them about whatever super-secret goal the Inquisitor was to attain, here.

But none of that really mattered; she'd been wanting to see this place for ages, and it was just as beautiful and wild as she'd heard. Towering trees, a rushing river, huge foliage, birds of an improbable colour. She loved it already.

"I see your face," Taelan smirked, coming up next to her to help with the wall. "You have no idea what's out there – I hear there's huge Avvar just waiting to attack us just down the river—"

"Oh, let them! Maybe I can get one of them talking before they get too distracted trying to kill us," she deadpanned as she lifted another log into place.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" he asked amiably as he held the wood steady for her to secure it.

"You don't have to hang out with me, you do realize that, right?" she mumbled distractedly around the nails in her mouth.

"If I didn't you'd have been dead long ago."

She glanced at him seriously, and spit the nails into her hand. "Now that's the truth, and you know I still owe you a drink or twelve for that last incident in the Hissing Wastes—"

"Oh, come on, if I was keeping track you'd owe me enough drinks to keep me under the table for weeks."

She shook her head. "I know. I hear a ruckus at the front gate – you'd better go help Scout Harding before I start getting sappy about all you've done for me."

He snickered but did as he was bid.

She sighed. He was right – she was too inquisitive, and often not quite careful enough. He'd pulled her back from many a scrape she wouldn't have made it out of. She really did owe him. But now was not the time; Ser University Pants had arrived.

She set down the rest of her things, wiped her hands on her pants, and approached the middle gate to observe the fuss.

And a fuss there was. What sort of place was a camp in the wilderness – fortified or no – for a Professor and his assistant and—his enormous wagon, which she assumed contained all his trappings that would soon occupy the one real building in the camp, the little cabin at the back. A surprise that it wasn't being kept vacant for the Inquisitor, but she was used to roughing it, whereas the Professor…not so much.

Was that…a _bed_? Absolutely ridiculous.

Her nostrils flared in disgust. Who brought an actual Orlesian bed to a camp? A trunk full of books – that was a luxury she could understand. But he'd make a lot more progress with the others in the camp if he slept on a cot like the rest of them.

But then, he wouldn't care about that, would he? He was merely here to 'oversee' some sort of discovery, for which he would no doubt take credit. Typical shem.

They were drawing near to her now, passing through the middle gate on the way to unload his absurd quantity of junk at the cabin. Well, he was certainly younger than she'd expected, although he was turned towards Scout Harding and she couldn't quite see his face.

At his side, eyes on the trees and the broken walkway that scaled one of the larger trunks inside the camp, was – presumably – his assistant.

An elf.

Interesting. A city elf, likely, but how could she be a professor's assistant? From what she'd heard the position was not that of a servant. Perhaps, if Evra couldn't be bothered to speak to the hoity-toity professor himself, she could get some information from this young lady. Surely she'd be easier to talk to.

Evra almost pitied her already; it seemed probable that this assistant was here to do the difficult, dirty work of discovery, whilst Professor Kenric would take all the credit for her efforts.

At that moment, as the Professor and Scout Harding were passing, he looked aside, accidentally caught her eye for a moment.

And smiled, absently and a bit bashfully.

Hmph. He may have nice bone structure, but that didn't make him any less of a prick.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day – the Professor's entire house unloaded, it seemed, and place into the cabin, which he at least, to his credit, declared perfectly amenable and more than he expected – Lace sent Evra, Taelen, and Garrett to scout down the river, and see how close the 'hostile' Avvar were. Another group of scouts had come back the night before from a trek along the shore of the lake, where they'd found a friendlier group of the natives up in the cliffs. Apparently those individuals were of Stone Bear Hold, while the ones harrying the Inquisition forces on the Basin floor were "Hakkonites," but they couldn't get much more information until the Inquisitor arrived in a day or two and could speak to the Stone Bears' thane.

What they could do, was gather details about the enemy from observation alone, and ensure none of these Hakkonites were moving any closer to their position.

Sure enough, they'd found several of them near the path down into a swamp a few short miles from the Basin camp. A huge brute of an Avvar, wearing white and grey furs and carrying a ridiculously large maul, accompanied by what looked like a couple scouts and a rather eerie mage, his form cloaked in darkness as he shuffled by, a glaring icy staff gripped in his bony hand.

Luckily the Hakkonite scouts were not on par with Evra and her companions, and the Inquisition scouts had escaped unseen to report back to Scout Harding.

As menacing as the group had been, Evra had been itching to speak to them, ask them questions. Where were they from? Why were they seemingly at odds with Stone Bear hold? She knew who Hakkon was – the Avvar god of war. But why were they called Hakkonites? Didn't most Avvar worship several gods, if not all of them?

But she wasn't stupid – she could tell an unfriendly mien when she saw one. Those Avvar had no interest in talking; they were after something, and she guessed they saw the Inquisition forces as a threat to whatever it was they were undertaking.

When they returned, Harding suggested she speak to Kenric about the Hakkonites, to see if he had any insight.

"Are you kidding me?"

Lace's look was of pure innocence. "What do you mean? He's studied the area, I'm sure he knows something about—"

"I am calling your bluff, _Scout_ Harding," Evra cut in severely. "But fine – if you want me to 'consult' him, I would be happy to." She hoped Lace was regretting her instruction as she marched off to the cabin, ready to get her first conversation with Mr. Pretentious over and done with.

But it wasn't to be; she ran into the elf assistant on the stairs instead.

"Were you looking for the Professor?" she asked in an interesting accent Evra couldn't quite place. "He's quite busy with something at the moment, could I help you perhaps?"

Evra stared at her for a moment, then stuck out her hand. "Evra Lott, I'm a scout and I was going to let the Professor know of our findings today and see if he had anything to contribute."

"Oh I'm sure he does, he's quite knowledgeable about…well, most things," the girl replied, but with a more matter-of-fact tone than Evra would have expected. "I'm Colette, his assistant," she said, shaking Evra's proffered hand.

"So you…work at the University, or…?"

Colette cocked an eyebrow. "Indeed – elves are allowed into the University now, thanks to Empress Celene, and the Professor was kind enough to choose his assistant based on merit and not race."

Evra actually blushed. "I'm not…" she trailed off, then pushed her hair behind her ears. "My father was an elf," she said candidly. Her friends knew this, although she kept it from being public knowledge with the way she wore her hair.

"Oh! Well, I beg your pardon if I was a little short," Colette replied with a smile. "I do get quite a few people asking me how I managed to get a position with the Professor, and as you can imagine it gets a little trying."

Evra nodded. "I'm sure. I didn't mean to question your abilities – and I admit it says a lot about the Professor that he chose you."

"He doesn't really care for that sort of thing. Race, politics, et cetera," Colette explained. "He just wants to get to the bottom of history's mysteries, if you will," she added with a chuckle. "In any case, did you need him for something? I may be able to help, but I don't know much about the Avvar I'm afraid, so I can introduce you—"

"Oh, that's not necessary," Evra was glad to eschew the pleasure of his acquaintance for another night. "I'd hate to disturb him," she lied. "I can speak to him about it later; it's probably of no consequence. I'd better be off to bed, I'm sure Scout Harding will have us out again quite early. It was nice to meet you."

Colette nodded with a friendly smile. "You as well, good night!"


	3. Chapter 3

The next day she did have to speak to him, as he came up behind her in the line to grab a breakfast of some sort of fowl and potato stew.

And was shocked to find that instead of a flourishing Orlesian accent, his words displayed the lilting cadence of Starkhaven.

"Well that smells delightful – I was afraid we'd be subsisting on roots and berries out here," he joked, and she turned and blinked blankly at him; less because of his attempt at humour, and more in shock at his pronunciation.

He cleared his throat. "Umm…sorry, it's the first time I've been this far away from the city," he explained, a little abashed.

"I—no, I just expected you to be Orlesian," Evra stated, feeling a little sorry but not wanting to reveal anything of the sort.

He chuckled. "Ah, my accent gives me away again. The irony of my existence – I can pinpoint most people's origin within a few sentences, and yet I can never overcome the blatant accent I myself have acquired."

"Well you needn't overcome it, it's quite…" Evra realized just in time what she was saying, and coughed, looking away. "It's very distinctive," she finished lamely as she accepted her bowl of stew.

"Well, I suppose I'll take that," he allowed. "I presume everyone knows who I am, given the ridiculous display I was forced to make with the University sending all my worldly goods with me, but I don't think I've met you yet?"

He accepted his own bowl as he spoke, then turned to her; she debated pretending she hadn't heard him, walking away, but…

It was the University who'd made him bring all his things? Surely he was just making excuses…

But it wouldn't do any good for her to be churlish – who knew how long all of them would be forced to cohabitate at this camp. She held her hand out, the one that wasn't holding the wooden bowl.

"Evra Lott, I'm a scout, under Harding."

"I…wouldn't have pegged you as an Evra," he said inscrutably as he took her hand – having the decency to shake it like a normal person and not squeeze it like some Orlesians did, or even worse, offer his own like a limp fish.

She raised one eyebrow as she pulled her hand away. "And why is that?"

That rather self-conscious smile crossed his lips again, and her eyes narrowed. That was not the thing to notice about him. Notice his too-fancy clothes, his ridiculous Orlesian hat, his…slight dusting of freckles on the nose…

Thankfully he spoke and distracted her from these idiotic musings.

"Your accent, and your face, they're too…"

He paused, looking at her as if mapping her features. "Ethereal, perhaps. Mysterious."

She stared at him, and he looked away. "I apologize if I've offended you, Lady—"

"It's just…it's just Evra," she said, her voice ever so slightly hoarse.

"Of course. Evra. Well, I'd better take myself off before I'm inadvertently rude to anyone else," he chuckled sheepishly and walked back toward the cabin.

Her eyes followed him, her brow slightly lowered.

"Has he already made an ass of himself?" She glanced aside to see Taelan's gaze on the Professor as he hurried up the steps of his new abode.

"No, actually…he was rather charming," she surprised herself by saying.

"He was…are you alright?"

"Oh, shut it."

"I'm serious! Yesterday you'd nothing but scathing insults about him, and now he's charming? Is he a damned mage to have cast a spell on you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Maker, Taelan, I'm just saying he's not as much of a jerk as I expected, alright?" She hurried toward the front gate to sit around the fire with the rest of the scouts before getting orders from Scout Harding.

The Inquisitor was expected soon, and Harding hoped to have something concrete to present her with when she arrived.

Evra and Taelan were sent out again, this time with Lieutenant Farrow, who had been there for a week and already knew a little more of the area. The elf led them to some Tevinter ruins, where Taelan sketched some images of the landmarks.

Taelan was a skilled artist, one of the reasons he was valuable to the inquisition. His skills with magic were quite decent, but the addition of talent with the pencil had made him extremely useful in new areas.

Evra glanced at him, then over at Farrow. Both elves, and she a half-elf. It was one of the reasons she'd joined the Inquisition; although the Inquisitor was human, she'd never once looked down on elves, and had put many of them in positions of power. She cared about people's abilities, not their race, and that was a huge point in her favour. The whole Inquisition benefitted from it.

Two of the members of her inner circle were elves – one, a city elf who was practically legendary with a bow, if perhaps as well known for her pranks. The other an elven mage with a great knowledge of the Fade.

Evra knew all this because she listened; she was interested, and she wanted to know more about everything, including the leader of the Inquisition she'd allied herself with. That meant paying attention when others talked about her companions.

She doubted either of these elves would make an appearance here – it was said the Inquisitor most recently had been traveling with the Tevinter mage, Dorian, the dwarf Varric, and her warrior, Blackwall. Or whatever they called him now.

She'd heard quite a few opinions about Dorian – but the Inquisitor's friendship with him was yet another point in her favour, as far as Evra was concerned. Although she didn’t know her personally, she trusted the Inquisitor's judgment and felt her alliance with a Tevinter mage again showed her lack of prejudice. An attitude all of Thedas could do with more of.

Besides that, there were very few Templars in the ranks of the Inquisition, something Evra was quite happy about.

She was distracted from her musings when Farrow pointed out Hakkonites along the river ahead. This time, they were unable to avoid the hostile Avvar, and a skirmish ensued.

Evra dove in as usual, unmindful of the danger, her blades dancing beneath the guard of the huge warrior. His furs fell to the ground with a whoosh as she slashed his buckles, drawing blood. He lifted his maul into the air, yelling a fearsome, ear-splitting roar, and Evra dodged away before his maul could make contact with her head.

But just as she danced backward, a blast of electricity caught her in the small of her back, and she fell to her knees. The damned mage – she saw now that Taelan was busy shielding himself and Farrow, who had just planted an arrow in one of the smaller bastard's heads. She was a good scout, good at fighting too, but never careful enough of her surroundings.

She heard the gigantic Avvar chuckle darkly as he drew back his weapon for another swing at her nearly prone form, and she tried to back up, weakly pulling her swords up in front of her, her back, shoulders, and hips numb from the blast of the mage's staff.

But Farrow and Taelan had her covered – suddenly the mage collapsed next to her, an arrow protruding from his neck. The warrior grunted, but still made to swing; she fell backwards into foliage just in time to miss his mighty blow.

Feeling was returning to her torso, her limbs, and she scrambled up, twirling underneath the second swing, the air from the enormous maul whiffing past her face. She spun around, easily getting behind the large bruiser again, slashing at the back of his legs.

He yelled in pain, and she nearly had to do the same as the second of the smaller fighters materialized next to her, ready to plant a shiv in her side.

But she turned the blade and planted her own in the Avvar's belly, then kicked them off it and dodged out of the large one's reach once more.

Now that he was the only threat, they easily neutralized him; Evra made one single attempt to bring him in, which he laughed at before launching himself at the three of them again.

Unfortunately Taelan was unversed in subduing magic, and they ended the fight with a pile of dead Avvar at their feet. Evra picked up the warrior's tattered furs, but when Farrow tried to grab the mage's icy looking staff, it merely melted beneath his fingers, and he drew his hand back with a gasp.

At least they had some more information about the area and Taelan's drawings with which to report back to Harding.


	4. Chapter 4

That evening, in the tent she shared with Taelan, she lay face down on her cot, her back sore and tender to the touch. She'd removed most of her clothes, and pulled her shirt up to her shoulder blades, to keep it from touching her aching skin.

But when Taelan stepped into the tent, a hunk of bread and some cheese from dinner in his hands, he nearly dropped it. "Fenedhis, Evra! You've got to let someone look at that!"

She grunted. "It's not a big deal, Taelan, don't be so melodramatic!"

"You haven't seen it, now have you?"

She sighed, and turned her head to face him. "No, but I know what it feels like, and it's damned painful," she allowed.

"It looks like frost bite, is what it looks like. I'm getting the healer."

"Oh gods Taelan you know how I hate—"

"What, being alive?"

"Oh for—fine! Maker's breath, it's like having a mother hen around at all times…"

"Well if calling me a mother hen keeps you from denying the healer then have at it. I'll be right back."

He set the bread and cheese on the barrel that sat between their cots, but she had no interest in eating, anyway. The pain was too intense.

A few minutes later, the camp's healer, a human mage, ducked into her tent, and made a soft clucking noise when he saw her back. "You should have summoned me as soon as you returned from your altercation," he murmured.

She liked Micael, a Navarran with a thick accent and gentle hands, but she wasn't about to let him see how much pain she was in.

He laid his hands over her back, and she couldn't help sucking in a sharp breath between her teeth. She turned her head away, biting her lip.

"Your nerves are damaged, my friend," he said softly as she felt his magic permeating her skin. "I can fix it, but you will need salves too, and you must remain immobile for two full days!"

She groaned.

"Yes, I know, it is terrible, but I must insist. Otherwise you may lose use of your legs for quite some time, would that please you?"

She cringed at the scolding tone in his voice, as well as the certainty that he was telling the truth – her legs had felt tingly ever since the incident.

"Fine," she ground out.

"I am assured that our friend Taelan will see to it you do not disobey my decree, yes?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to cluck over me, don't worry," she replied scathingly.

A chuckle was her reward as Micael rose and exited the tent. She heard him exchange low words with Taelan outside, but before they even finished talking she was asleep; the reduction in pain that the mage's ministrations had provided was enough to permit her exhaustion to take over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some events may occur out of order from the sequence in the game.  
> Also please try to disregard any typos - all of this has been written and posted on mobile ;)

The following morning, Colette entered her tent. "Taelan tells me you'd appreciate some distraction, so I thought I'd ask you what you've discovered about the Avvar in the area? Seeing as how you appear to have come into close contact with them," she added drily. 

Evra sighed. "Indeed, and again Taelan pulled my arse out of the fire…or ice, as it were," she amended.

Colette cocked an eyebrow. 

"Their magic – it's all ice based. The mage's staff melted when Lieutenant Farrow tried to retrieve it, and Healer Micael says the damage to my back is mostly from cold as well as some electricity."

Colette pondered this with a hand under her chin as she sat on Taelan's cot. "Interesting. I'll let the professor know – I'm sure he'll have some feedback about it. Because the Stone Bear clan does not appear to use the same magic."

Evra spent the next hour discussing the Avvar and the area in general with the Professor's assistant, who turned out to be rather funny as well as giving a few clues about the mission they were on in this lush valley – something to do with the previous Inquisitor. But she made Evra swear to secrecy; the truth would be out after the Inquisitor arrived, but they didn't want their adversaries finding out what they were up to before then. 

But when she got up to leave, she said something that made Evra wish even more she weren't shackled to the bed and thus unable to appropriately refute.

"I think I should send Professor Bram to speak with you, he'd love to hear some of your observations first hand—"

"Colette! That's totally unnecessary, I mean I can speak to him at some point but now is not the best—"

"Nonsense! He'll just stay in the blasted cabin reading all day if I don't send him to speak with you. He won't mind that you're prone, I promise."

"Colette! No!" But her entreaties were in vain; she could only hope that the Professor would have some excuse not to come and sit in a tent with an unknown scout, making awkward conversation about Avvar.

Luckily, Micael came in to apply a salve and some further magical healing to her back before anyone else could show up. Thus she was greatly in charity with him, prompting his suspicion.

"Why are you so happy with my arrival, my friend?"

"You're healing me, what's not to like?"

He made a noise of scepticism as he got up, but she smiled slightly, eyes closed, and turned a little on her side, grateful that his methods had allowed her that relief, at least.

Her eyes flew open when a less familiar voice sounded inside the tent.

"I, umm…" Professor Kenric cleared his throat and tried again. "Colette wanted me to speak with you about the Avvar you've encountered, but…if you'd prefer we didn't, I can…come back another time…I can see you're…"

His discomfiture for some reason amused her, putting her at her ease more than confident words from him might've. 

"It's fine, Professor, please have a seat. On my friend's bed, there, since I don't have any nice Orlesian chair to offer you."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down. "I knew that nonsense would bite me in the arse, but the administration couldn't abide the idea of one of their Professors sleeping in a tent – how shocking! They had a reputation to uphold!" 

His impression of an Orlesian accent was atrocious, and Evra snorted, then cringed as the action sent frissons of pain through her lower back. 

She hastily replied, to cover her pain. "I must admit, seeing the bed peeking out from your wagon, I was rather…taken aback."

"I'm sure you assumed I was some Orlesian milk-drinker," he responded with a low laugh. 

She smiled, hoping he couldn’t tell that that's exactly what she'd thought.

"Well, at least you aren't Orlesian," she allowed drily. 

"Indeed, I do have that going for me." He glanced at her again, then looked away, his smile fading. "So, umm…Colette said you had some information about the Avvar?"

The next half hour was indeed rather awkward; she couldn't figure out why he kept glancing at her, then away, as they were talking. Could he see her ears? But surely that wasn't the issue – he had an elven assistant, so clearly he had no problems with that, not to mention Colette had reiterated this more than once.

Did her back look that disturbing? She was turned a little towards him, but he'd still be able to see it, since her shirt was pulled up to her chest. So…perhaps?

After a slight pause, she had to ask. "I…apologize if my injury is off-putting, Professor," she said quietly. Still not sure why she even had to bring it up. Who cared if he was put off?

Well, perhaps she cared a little more now than she had before she'd met him – he  _ was _ interesting, and curious, like she was, although admittedly he had much more formal education, whereas her learning was mostly from a random plethora of books she'd gotten her hands on, and listening when others didn't notice her.

But that gave her no reason to be upset that he was acting reticently; after all, she was prone in a tent and he'd merely come to ask her about her experience. 

"What? Your—oh! Oh, yes umm…" he trailed off, looking grossly uncomfortable. "No, not at all, I just…I'm concerned about keeping you up, I mean surely you should be…resting…" he glanced over at her again, and then abruptly stood up, giving a little bow. 

"I should be going. Thank you for your…enlightening comments on these Avvar, Scout Evra."

Before she could reply, he was gone, and with a huff she buried her face in her pillow and willed herself to nap.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Micael allowed her to get up and walk around the camp, slowly, and she did so with great relief. Her back, she was assured, was healing quite nicely, and she should be good as new within a day or so. Just in time for the Inquisitor to arrive, which might engender a new mission or two.

And a good thing, too – she'd no books to keep her company, which made inactivity even worse. Taelan had been out a couple times while she was stuck there, and she'd eagerly asked him for details when he returned, to no avail; he'd merely sketched a couple ruins, and found a likely spot for a new camp further north into the basin.

After lunch, a merciful Colette showed up in her tent with a book about pre-Andrastian religions; not the most exciting of subjects, perhaps, but they'd touched on it briefly during one of their conversations, and Evra was glad for any and all distractions.

Well, almost any.

The Professor returned, and seemed surprised when he saw the book, which Colette had likely nicked from his own stash. Evra was just about to frame an apology that would avoid getting his assistant in trouble when he spoke.

"If you wanted books, Scout Evra, I could have loaned you much more interesting ones than that."

She blinked. "I…as a matter of fact, this one _is_ rather dry," she admitted.

"Indeed, I have a _much_ more edifying book about the Daughters of Song—"

"Don't tease me with such luxuries, Professor," she grumbled, sitting up gingerly and setting the book on the barrel between the cots.

"I would never! I'll bring it to you with all haste, my lady. I mean, Scout Evra."

"You can just call me Evra, Professor," she found herself saying, then quickly looked away.

"Of course. Not much scouting being done at the moment anyway, is there?" he attempted to joke.

She smiled slightly, shaking her head. "Indeed not. Hopefully tomorrow, though."

"I apologize, Sc—Evra. I didn't mean to remind you of your injury."

She glanced briefly at him. "Not at all – I've been taken out of service before, usually due to my own stupidity, so it's nothing new. I'm just glad my companions didn't end up paying for my inattention."

"On the contrary, from what I've heard you're quite…umm…"

His bashful look was back, and she wondered what in the world Taelan might have been telling him.

"You're quite skilled in the field, one might say," he finally finished.

She waved a hand. "Perhaps, but not quite skilled enough, obviously," she laughed without humor. It was a sore point with her, and something she worked on, but not as much as she should. She had to be less reckless, or one day it would be Taelan’s life, or another Scout's, on the line, instead of hers, and that was unacceptable.

"Well, there were four of them and three of you, were there not?"

She tilted her head at him. "Yes, but…"

"And Taelan said you managed to take out the largest one and the fastest one, almost singlehandedly."

Her eyes widened. Taelan said that? He spent so much time needling her she didn't realize he was going around praising her to others…damn, that was another drink she owed him.

"I…suppose I mostly did but that was only with their support; Lieutenant Farrow is really amazing with a bow, even at close range, and Taelan’s shielding magic—"

"I'm only saying, perhaps you should cut yourself some slack," the Professor said softly, his eyes meeting hers, and this time she looked away.

"Perhaps," she mumbled.

His lips curved slightly, and then he was gone.

True to his word, he brought back the book – "A Compendium of Rituals and Rites of the Daughters of Song, by Sister Adeline Mintner of the Hercinia Chantry". Evra was barely a chapter in when she'd determined the prose was less like the Pre-Andrastian treatise Colette had loaned her, and more like The Randy Dowager Quarterly.

Blessing the previously-scoffed-at Professor, she happily remained in her tent the rest of the day, much to Micael's approbation.


	7. Chapter 7

That night Taelan was on guard duty, and the one or two other scouts she normally associated with were either doing the same or out on a mission for Harding, so she took a seat at a makeshift table in the near dark, between the tents and the Professor's cabin. She set a candle on a stump as she chewed her bread and potatoes and continued reading the book he'd loaned her.

Soon enough she was interrupted by Colette.

"I see you're eating alone, and your position looks none too comfortable" – it wasn't – "Would you like to come eat in the cabin with me and the Professor?"

Evra blinked. "I…what?"

"Well, I'd come sit out here with you, but the light's better in there, and he has much nicer chairs. I'm sure he'd be happy to bring you one, but…they're quite heavy."

Evra stood abruptly, barely catching the book before it fell to the ground. Also barely managing to avoid a wince at the slight pain that still plagued her back.

"I…don't know," she mumbled, looking down at her food, then up at the bright lamplight spilling from the cabin door. Should she?

Then again, it wasn't as if the others would even notice she was gone; she'd been eating in a corner anyway. And her usually gruff demeanor kept most of the other scouts, and certainly the Inquisition soldiers stationed here, at bay; few were persistent enough to break through her shell.

Taelan was one, and Micael had treated her enough times that she couldn't really stand on ceremony with him. A couple others she was on friendly terms with; otherwise she had very little dealings with any of them.

So why should she care what they thought of her eating in the Professor's cabin? It wasn't as if she was alone with him – not that it was any of their business anyway, if she was.

She was used to eating outside – the Dalish had no buildings. Whenever it wasn't raining, they were outside – sleeping, eating, anything. But working for the Inquisition, she'd had to get used to sleeping in tents – a far cry from the aravels – and eating wherever was most convenient.

It wasn't that much of a stretch from her previous life, and after her injury she didn't need "eating in the Professor's fancy cabin" to add to her appearance of weakness.

She shook her head. "I'm fine, Colette, thank you – no need for you to keep me company, I don't want to keep you from the real chairs," she added with a brief smile.

"Nonsense," Kenric chimed in, having approached just in time to hear Evra's refusal. "We should probably try eating out here more often, we don't want to segregate ourselves—"

"Well if you're trying to avoid segregation you should likely go sit around the fire with the others," Evra replied swiftly, arching one brow.

He glanced back through the center gate to where the other Inquisition forces were gathered, their voices carrying across the breeze as a faint hum. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, most of them are even less welcoming than you – I haven't loaned them any books, you see."

She couldn't help but grin at that – and he was right, they likely wouldn't be too keen on the professor attempting to join their ranks.

"Fine," she sighed. "But if you want points you should just pull over a crate and leave your fancy chairs inside," she added with a smirk.

"Fair enough," he conceded, but Colette did run inside to fetch an extra lantern.

Dinner was spent discussing the Daughters of Song, and Evra greatly enjoyed the first scholarly conversation she'd had in quite some time.

It wasn't that her Dalish clan was stupid; far from it. However, they were patently uninterested in the details of human history. Evra wasn't sure if it was her partially human upbringing or merely her thirst for knowledge, but she was fairly indiscriminate in her interests. Human, elven, Andrastian, Tevinter, even Qunari – all cultures held some fascination for her.

Although she no longer consistently hid the fact that she was part Dalish, it wasn't immediately evident. Her accent was a sort of mélange, her features and build muddied by her human blood. So when at one point in the conversation she mentioned something about the aravels, she immediately paused, wondering if the Professor would be shocked. Or perhaps not shocked, but at least surprised.

"Very sneaky," he said, glancing at her before swallowing a mouthful of ale.

"Well granted I don't advertise it, but—"

"No, I meant the name. You will recall I was skeptical about it."

She blinked. Well he wasn't _wrong_ …

"It's my middle name."

"I wondered about that as well," Colette confessed, "but I assumed you'd been raised human."

"I…was, until I was about 17," Evra admitted quietly. Please don't ask for details, I don't know you well enough nor will I ever, only Taelan knows, please don't ask—

"And you've been living with the Dalish since then?" Colette moved on, and Evra let out a brief and silent sigh of relief.

"Indeed."

"Colette, we should not grill her about her personal life," the Professor cut in, scowling slightly at his assistant. "I've told you before about asking for people's details—"

"Well that's in polite company, Professor, this isn't the same thing at all!"

Evra snorted. "I have to admit, I'm not very polite, nor fancy, Professor. She has a point."

"That's not—I meant that you shouldn't—"

"It's fine, Professor, I don't mind," Evra laughed. Now that they'd missed asking about the most sensitive part of her past, she had no problem giving them a summary. Her situation was not a common one, she knew.

"When I was 17, my mother died, and as you can imagine we were none too popular in our village. That was when I went to live with the Dalish – originally intended to find my father's clan but fell in with Taelan’s bunch of misfits and they became my family instead."

"If you don't mind me asking, then," the Professor cut in hesitantly, "where did you grow up, before you went to the Dalish?"

She looked away. "Outside Kirkwall."

"Hmm. Interesting, your accent—"

"Professor, you're doing that thing again."

Kenric blankly met Colette's pointed stare. "Oh. So I am. The both of us, too inquisitive, aren't we?" He sighed ruefully. "I suppose that's why we get along."

"Wait, what thing?" Evra inquired, secretly smiling their dynamic – although Kenric had scolded Colette, she was unabashed, and her scolding of him in return was quite amusing.

"He's always trying to guess people's provenance based on their accent," Colette explained. "He's usually right, but some people find it off-putting."

"Ah. Well were you right about me, then?"

"Er…no, actually."

Was he blushing? Or had he had too much ale?

"Really, Professor? Where did you think she was from?"

He cleared his throat. "I umm…I couldn't tell. Clearly I'm not as much of an expert as I thought, eh? Well, it's getting quite late, thank you for the edifying company, ladies." He stood abruptly, and with a little bow, he took his dinner things and left.

Colette sat blinking at him.

"He seems…rather distractible," Evra chuckled, gathering her own dinner things as well as the book.

"No, that's not…I mean, yes, he's quite absent minded, as Professors are wont to be," Colette replied pensively. "But he's acting a little…odd, lately. Must be the mission."

She turned to Evra with a quiet giggle. "Mission," she said again. "I just like saying that – can you imagine the Professor and his assistant, helping the Inquisition to uncover the—well, I haven't told you the whole story but tomorrow I can!"

"You'd better, my curiosity is eating me alive," Evra exaggerated.

"Blame the Inquisitor for taking forever to get here!"


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, Inquisitor Zephyr Trevelyan did indeed arrive, at the crack of dawn, while the Basin was still mostly dark. Harding, of course, had been up for some time, and was ready to give her 'boss' a debriefing. Since working under her Evra had had cause to wonder more than once if the dwarf ever slept.

As usual the scouts and soldiers had been instructed to go about their business unless their presence was requested, and Evra had met the Inquisitor on a couple other occasions already.

Her companions were another matter - Varric she'd seen (not to mention reading all his awful yet delightful books), and Blackwall once as well. She'd found him quite...large. And the beard only added to his bearish appearance. But she hadn't observed him since...well, the details weren't common knowledge, although she'd overheard enough to piece it together. He'd lied about something, about who he was, things he'd done. But since none of those things appeared to be that he was secretly a Templar, she didn't really care. The Inquisitor had forgiven him, and Evra didn't even know him in the first place, so it was none of her business.

Dorian Pavus was Evra’s main curiosity. The last times she'd crossed paths with the Inquisitor - always in camp, Evra had only been to Skyhold twice - their leader had been traveling with Vivienne de Fer. A Mage in the Inquisition was always of interest to Evra, since one could assume they'd been persecuted by Templars and had sought a position of power in order to fight back, which was admirable as well as relatable.

Mme. de Fer, however...from what Evra understood, she had no intention of overthrowing the Templars, dissolving their corrupt order. She, a mage, wanted to reinstate the balance of power as it had been.

It was unacceptable, and inconceivable. Ever hadn't even been tormented by them her entire life - only two times, although those were brutal - and she wanted them wiped from the face of Thedas. She was mature enough to admit that there were some - she knew of at least one - who were not absolute disgusting ingrates. But the majority of them ought to be hanged, or at the very least brought to account.

“You're...sweeping very vigorously there, my friend,” Taelan’s amused voice broke into her chain of thought.

She glanced down ruefully and saw that she'd made zero progress in clearing the floor of the large main tent where the Inquisitor was to sleep. They'd moved some crates of supplies out and Evra was supposed to be making it presentable for Her Worship.

She hastily got back to work. “Was just wondering what that Pavus mage would be like,” she said lowly as Taelan brought in some of the Inquisitor's things.

“Well I'll tell you one thing. Two, in fact. He's dreadfully handsome, and he carries way too much gear about for a trip into the wilderness.”

“Did you meet him already?” She whispered fiercely.

“Oh no. Not met, merely nodded to, but Ghilan'nain preserve me, is he beautiful…”

Now Taelan looked in danger of getting distracted; Evra smacked him on the arm and gestured for him to finish.

As they cleared out of the tents that were now ready for the Inquisitor's party, that lady herself was approaching.

The two scouts performed the traditional salute. “Your Worship,” they mumbled in unison.

“Scout...Lott, is it?” She surprised Evra by saying.

Her eyes flew up from their downcast direction.

“Indeed, Inquisitor…” Now that she was up close, she had an opportunity to be reminded how beautiful the Inquisitor was - pale blonde hair, bright green eyes, her magnificent Sulevin blade strapped to her back.

Evra had admitted her great admiration for their leader after she'd met her the first time, and Taelan had lost no time in teasing her about her 'crush’. It wasn't one really, but she certainly held her in high regard.

“I hope you've recovered from your injury in the desert?” Inquisitor Trevelyan was asking solicitously.

Evra’s eyebrows climbed. “Absolutely, Inquisitor--”

“She's already been injured again and we've barely been here a week,” Harding helpfully chimed in. Evra barely managed to keep her mouth shut but glared at the diminutive head scout with horror.

The Inquisitor merely chuckled. “I suspect I would be injured much more frequently if it weren't for my scouts, and my companions,” she assured her. “It seems you've suffered no lasting damage, and otherwise our injuries just remind us to be more cautious the next time.”

“As you say, Your Worship,” Evra agreed, bowing her head once more and stepping back to allow the party to pass into the tent, where they were going to eat a morning meal before heading up to the Avvar hold in the cliffs.

She only caught a glimpse of Dorian as he passed, but Maker, Taelan wasn't kidding. Unpardonably handsome, that one. She wondered if Taelan would have any success...she didn't really see the point of trying to catch the mage’s eye, considering they'd only be in the same camp a few days, a couple of weeks at most. But she wouldn't judge him; her friend could have his fun where he wished.

She practically growled at Harding, who didn't follow the others in, instead heading back to her duties up front. “What the hell, Harding? You're going to get me fired from the bloody Inquisition!”

Harding just laughed. “Oh relax, that comment was only for your benefit. I already told her you're doing a great job.”

“You--you what?”

“Yes, and if you're up to it I want you and Taelan ahead of them on the path to the Hold, make sure they don't get ambushed.”

“Absolutely, I'm at a hundred percent!”

Harding rolled her eyes. “You're doing better than the rest of us then. I don't know if I'll ever recover from this food we've been eating.”

“What, you don't like the…well, whatever these birds are called?”

“I'm already not a fan of poultry, but Jessup refuses to cook any of the damn tuskets.”

“Hmm. I find them quite tasty,” Evra asserted.

“Anything else you find tasty, my friend?” Harding inquired sweetly, and Evra turned to her with a scowl.

“What are you on about?”

“Nothing, time for you to get ready. Head to Farrow’s position and take him with you the rest of the way.”

“Harding--”

“You have your assignment, don't give me any sass or I'll have you back in your cot,” her superior threatened with mock seriousness, and Evra did as she was bid, grumbling about the vagaries of dwarves.

That afternoon, Evra was allowed to sit in on the meeting between the Inquisitor and Thane Svara Sun-Hair, the colorfully named leader of the Stone Bear Hold. She learned more about the Avvar in that half hour than she’d found out in all her studies, and couldn't wait to discuss the experience with Kenric...and Colette of course. She knew the Professor hadn't been up to the hold yet, although now that the Inquisitor had made a tentative friend of their Thane, he'd likely be welcome. As welcome as any lowlander was, at any rate.

On the way out, she heard some of the locals speaking in lowered voices, but not low enough to escape her hearing. Skepticism about the martial abilities of the Inquisitor and her followers, among other things.

Evra had seen Zephyr Trevelyan in action only once, but she would bet all she had to back her against any opponent in this hold, and she considered letting them know it. But it wasn't her place to defend the Inquisitor's name; there were always those who doubted her skill, and they always came to know better, be it on the right or wrong end of her magnificent sword.

What she could do, however, was ensure the Avvar knew that the Inquisitor's soldiers could also hold their own in a fight.

As the Inquisitor disappeared back down the eastern road toward the Basin Camp, Evra turned aside to address their detractors. As soon as she spoke, Taelan tried to shush her, but she wasn't about to let her mother hen get in the way of her goal.

“I see it is customary to settle disputes by a trial of physical prowess, yes?”

The Avvar looked her up and down, his companions doing the same.

“Yes, what of it?”

“Perhaps you'd care to pit your abilities against mine? I wouldn't want you to assume that all lowlanders are weak, after all.”

He stared at her for a moment, and the female next to him laughed, but the other man raised his eyebrows in a slight show of admiration.

“Little thing like you? I'd hate to cause bad blood with your Inquisition by killing one of its minions,” he replied smugly.

Evra's nostrils flared. She wasn't that little, after all. Well, perhaps compared to the Avvar.

“If you're afraid to be shown up by a lowland woman that's totally understandable,” she said airily, waving her hand and preparing to follow her fellows back down the trail.

“Here now! No insulting me in my own hold, woman!”

She pursed her lips to hold back a smile, but stopped, and waited.

“You be here tomorrow at midday and we'll have a contest, and don't say I didn't warn you.”

“As you command, o large ser,” she replied with a little bow. He merely grunted, and she hurried to catch up with the others.

“You are getting into so much trouble for this!” Taelan hissed. “And what makes you think you can best him? He was huge!”

“I'm not going to let them insult the Inquisitor without getting a little comeuppance. And some faith you have in my abilities!” She glanced severely at him.

“Evra you're just recovering from an injury, and I can't help you if you go toe to toe with him--”

“I don't always have to have your help, friend. I can manage on my own occasionally.”

He sighed. “Fine, but what will you tell Harding? She may have plans for us tomorrow.”

“The truth! I'm defending the Inquisition’s honor. She'll understand.”

“So you hope.”


	9. Chapter 9

“I really do not understand,” Harding scolded, “why you feel the need to cause a ruckus everywhere we go. Last time you had to mow down some Venatori on your own and didn't seem to care that there were 12 more behind the first two. Before that you got yourself surrounded by undead in the Exalted Plains, just so Taelan could kill a damned revenant just a little faster. And before that in the Emerald Graves you--”

“I know! Fenedhis, Lace, I'm well aware of my own foolhardiness, but you didn't hear them, they were so dismissive of us! I'm not trying to create a fissure with the hold, I'm trying to bond with them!”

Harding squinted at her. “You're sure about this? Ah - here's an expert for a second opinion.”

Evra turned to see Kenric approaching; she wasn't sure how she felt about him being privy to her plans. He'd likely think she was an uncouth heathen. Well...she rather was, by some standards. Oh well.

“Would initiating a fight--”

“A test of skill!” Evra corrected.

“Fine, _a test of skill_ , be likely to raise hackles in the Hold? Or would it help our relationship?”

“Oh definitely the latter,” he replied with assurance. “The Avvar greatly value physical prowess, and often settle disputes with them, with no hard feelings.”

“See!” Evra crowed, and Harding just shut her eyes in defeat.

“Fine - but Maker's breath, be careful! Maybe I should send Micael with you just in case…”

“I'll survive, Harding, I promise.”

Her boss grunted and left, shaking her head.

“Wait...do you mean to tell me that _you_...are going to fight one of _them_?”

She nodded with satisfaction.

“And...and I aided this intention by agreeing that it was a good idea.”

Her sense of achievement abated slightly. “Umm...yes?”

He sighed. “Dammitall.”

“Why do you care? If I might ask…”

“Well, I just...I know how...big they can be. And it seems very dangerous...what if something happened to...I mean if something happened to anyone in the Inquisition it would be problematic, relations with the Avvar--”

“I see. Well, don't worry, nothing will happen to me. I'll even bow out if I see I'm outmatched.”

He stared at her. “That seems highly unlikely.”

She pursed her lips and looked down. “Am I that transparent?”

Kenric sighed. “You will do as you must, of course, but please don't die. I would be...perturbed.”

His words were silly, but his tone...she risked a glance at his face, and its seriousness made something catch in her throat.

She cleared it, made some excuse, and went back to her tent to get a change of clothes so she could go bathe in the river.

The reason he was concerned was naturally because she was one of the very few people he'd socialized with at all here in camp, the other being Harding. He’d spoken to the Inquisitor and her party of course, but she didn't know how well they'd got on.

He likely _would_ be perturbed if he lost  the only person here besides his assistant who cared to read and was interested in his research.

Speaking of which, she had to grill Colette on the details of their mission. Now, after witnessing the conversation with the Thane, she knew that they were looking for Inquisitor Ameridan’s final resting place, and Evra was quite curious to hear about how they'd determined it was in this location in the first place, and what they expected to find.

She bathed in the river - it was a luxury to have one so close, not to mention with plenty of foliage to keep one hidden near the banks. It was a little colder than one expected, but she found it refreshing. When she returned, Colette was just descending from the cabin, and waved her over eagerly.

She tossed her things into her tent and followed her new friend up the steps, and inside to where several lanterns were already burning against the coming night. She realized as she sat down at the table at Colette's gesture, that she'd forgotten to rebraid her hair, and had no ties with which to pull it back

“Dammit! Colette do you have anything I could tie my hair back with?”

Kenric walked in the door just then, his own hair damp, and said offhandedly, “No need to trouble yourself on our account, Evra, you can always just--”

He broke off when he set his things down and actually turned to look at her. His face blatantly revealed when two things hit him at once - the first she couldn't quite decipher, although he appeared rather discomfited by the fact that her hair was down, despite what he'd just said.

The other she understood all too well, as she was having a similar realization herself.

He'd just come from the river.

He'd been _bathing_. In the river. They could have _seen_ each other.

Not for the first time in the past few days, Evra’s face felt unfamiliarly hot, and she turned quickly to Colette, asking her questions in quick succession to cover the awkward moment. The professor's assistant thankfully did not seem to notice anything amiss, and once she was talking Kenric easily joined the conversation, his voice and expression revealing nothing.

“Yes, and the Inquisitor is the best person to find them, not only because of the symbolism of the event,” he was explaining.

“Well, she can easily best any attackers they run into for one thing,” Evra agreed.

“But she also has the political presence, if you will, to establish ties with the local Avvar, who are none too fond of these Hakkonites, if I understand correctly.”

Evra was glad to impart what information she'd gained this morning to her two companions, especially when they expressed such amazement at some of her revelations. Their reactions were all she could have wished.

“Evra!” Kenric grabbed her arm at one point, and she glanced at him in surprise. “Do you think...they'd let me come and speak with their Augur?”

“Of course! The Thane said she'd be happy to welcome the Inquisitor's 'skald’,” Evra was happy to reply.

Kenric’s face was a mask of excitement. “Skald! Isn't that just brilliant! I've been wanting to go but didn't know if it was a good idea before the Inquisitor went to speak with them first. I'll go tomorrow, and--oh!”

Colette tilted her head at him. “Professor?”

He glanced at Evra. “I just remembered...perhaps there are other reasons to make my visit tomorrow anyway.”

Her eyes widened. Did he mean that he would come and _watch_ her fight with the Avvar? Ghilan'nain preserve her…

“I...don't think that's a good idea, Professor.”

“Will you stop calling me that? I'm not _your_ professor, you know.”

Evra blinked.

His eyes flew to Colette for one second. “Sorry, never mind. Anyway, why not? I could...study Avvar fighting techniques, seems like a good opportunity to me.”

“You just want to watch me get beat up, don't you,” she deadpanned, and Colette's eyes widened.

“What is she talking about, Professor?”

Evra sighed. Kenric just looked pointedly at her. “I'm...participating in some local tradition,” she said carefully, her eyes daring Kenric to contradict her. His own eyebrows rose slightly at her fib, but he remained silent. “In Stone Bear Hold. It involves...umm...fighting.”

“Oh how brilliant!” Colette unexpectedly clapped with glee. “I've always enjoyed such things, perhaps a bit contrary to my upbringing - my brothers used to call me bloodthirsty. It's merely a scientific curiosity, I assure you.”

Ever laughed faintly. “Well then, it seems I shall have...an audience. Let's hope I don't muck it up.”


	10. Chapter 10

The next day, Evra made her way to Stone Bear Hold as promised. Scout Harding did not make good on her threat to send the Healer along, but did warn him that Evra might need stitching up - yet again.

Taelan accompanied her, as any good friend would, and luckily they saw neither hide nor hair of the professor and his assistant. Just as well - knowing they were there would either cause her to fumble...or cause her to fight overly aggressively to make a point. The latter was more likely, but would probably end up with the same result: her being injured.

She was determined to avoid real wounds today, but had no problem with bruises and scrapes; they merely showed you hadn't shied away from battle.

She was ushered into the arena, which had been cleared of most obstacles, and was formally introduced to her opponent.

Arne Rofsen was exchanging the huge axe on his back for a less deadly looking club, one that was unlikely to decapitate her on a skilled stroke.

“And what is it you're doing? I didn't bring any practice weapons--” she began.

“I'm giving you a bit of a head start, small one. I do not fear your blades.”

“You're giving me a bad reputation from the start, is what you're doing,” she countered darkly. “Use the axe.”

He blinked. “I do not think that is wise - I do not wish to anger Thane Sun-hair--”

“Then get me practice swords, either way we must fight on a level field.”

He could see she was adamant, and made a little grunt of irritation. “Fine, stubborn lowlander! Arrken, can you do as she wishes?”

Arrken Feldsen, the Arena master, gave a little laugh and an approving nod in Evra's direction as he backed out of the fighting grounds, and went to fetch practice weapons for her.

When he returned, he had some delightful thin wooden 'blades’, the very thing to approximate her own weapons, Enasalin and Hellathen. They even had semi-sharp edges - enough to make a point, at least. She hefted them with approval and handed her swords over to Feldsen.

Rofsen seemed at a loss when he was handed a new weapon besides the club.

“What is this, then?” he grumbled.

“You can't fight with the club that you use interchangeably with your axe, Arne Rofsen, not when your opponent battles with unfamiliar weapons,” the Arena Master replied with visible disapproval.

Rofsen looked around, saw dozens of pairs of eyes on him. Grabbed the practice axe Feldsen held out, and shoved his club to the side.

Feldsen gave them both a nod and returned to his perch above, where he could see the entirety of the proceedings.

Evra took a deep breath and sent up a brief prayer to Andruil that she be imbued with swiftness and grace during battle.

As soon as the word to start was called, she went on the attack, and as she suspected, this surprised her much larger adversary.

But that would only work once.

She managed to cut through his leather pants and give him a good scrape, before she slid past and sliced through the buckle on his furs, similar to what she'd done with the Hakkonite a few days ago. She was quite pleased with these practice weapons...perhaps she could take them off the Avvars’ hands...

Arne roared and spun around. “My brother made that for me, lowland wench!”

“Well, take better care of it next time,” she taunted, and the crowd burst into a chorus of amused yells.

Arne’s brow lowered even further, and when he came at her he was much faster with his massive wooden weapon than she'd anticipated.

Shit. This wouldn't be as easy as she'd hoped.

She dodged him, but was unable to get through his guard again without circling him some more.

He quickly became impatient with her tactics and lunged again; now that she knew how fast he was, she was a little quicker, a little lighter on her feet.

But that didn't save her entirely; though he was slower, his weapon’s length and his reach far outstripped hers.

He lunged at her head, when she'd expected him to go for her feet. Ready to jump, she was unbalanced when she had to lean back instead, and caught the edge of his blade along her collarbone. A scrape, nothing more, but it angered her.

He managed to get several blows in - more than she normally allowed, but she wasn't quite used to his aggressive, angry fighting style.

Well, she could do angry too.

After the fourth time he hit her - this time at the base of her back, and that did hurt, given her previous injury - she gave a fearsome yell, and put all her might into besting him once and for all. She briefly allowed herself to remember that Kenric might be present in the crowd, and as she'd anticipated this gave her fresh energy.

After a few short minutes in which she danced around him, twirling one way and then another, dodging beneath his swinging arm and then behind, he found one of her blades at his throat, and the other poking him in the side.

He roared, but dropped his wooden axe and held up his hands.

The crowd, though not large, was deafening.

Bleeding from several scrapes, her back almost as sore as it had been two days before, she came around in front of him and held her own weapons up, and bowed. When Feldsen appeared to claim the blades she'd used, Rofsen surprised her by taking her forearm in a friendly embrace.

“Beat me fair and square, I admit it before all,” he said loudly. “This lowlander gets a hearty welcome from me, and a draught of spirit-fire besides!”

She grinned through the lines of dirt and sweat on her face. “A worthy battle, Arne Rofsen! I am glad to have challenged you and lived!”

He let out a bark of laughter, and shook her arm so hard her teeth rattled, before releasing her.

Half an hour later, after washing up and getting a little salve applied to her back, she was gathered around a fire in one of the shops, presumably one where drinks were made, although she didn't see any resemblance to a tavern.

Upon mentioning this, the several Avvar who were crowded into the building cackled with amusement.

“No tavern could hold an Avvar in his cups, little lowlander!” one of them answered. “But don't worry, we won't frighten you with a spectacle, this is merely a celebration drink!”

“Pah! As if I'd be frightened of any of you!” she dared to retort, and for one awful moment of silence she was afraid she'd overstepped. But more loud laughter ensued, and she decided that there wasn't much insult that these Stone Bears wouldn't take with a laugh, once you'd proven yourself.

A decidedly smaller hand than an Avvar’s laid on her shoulder, and she turned to find Kenric there, looking only a little nervous at the company.

“And who is this, another challenger?” Arne was clearly joking, but Kenric blanched.

“Careful, lest you eat your words - he is our skald, and I would be his champion.”

She didn't know what made her say it, but it seemed the proper retort at the time. The Avvar all made a noise of understanding, as well as denying any desire to cross him, if that was the case.

But Kenric turned a quite interesting shade of pink.

She stifled an uncharacteristic giggle when she saw his face.

“Give me a moment, I'll meet you outside,” she said quietly. He nodded with obvious relief and retreated.

She drank two cups of the so called spirit-fire, to the surprise and great delight of her new comrades, but didn't want to risk any more than that. Clearly the drink was made for much heftier bodies than hers. She ducked out when the Avvar began singing.

Kenric was on a bench outside the hut, one of her swords in his hand. She'd left them outside in their sheath harness, knowing they'd be safe here.

She sat next to him in silence for a few minutes before he spoke.

“I imagine you think me some kind of ill-bred brute now, after that display…”

She was going for flippant, but somehow her tone was more sad than anything.

He stared at her. “A...a brute? Clearly you've no idea what you look like in combat.”

“Well of course I don't, but I imagine it involves a lot of sweat, and dirt, and blood, and...possibly yelling.”

“You're...like I might imagine Andruil, if she used swords instead of a bow.”

She was speechless. She had never gotten such a beautiful or meaningful compliment in her entire life. She put a hand over her mouth to contain the incomprehensible noises that threatened to issue from it.

He'd been gazing ahead absently when he said it, but now he looked at her again. “I...hope I didn't offend? I don't mean to say anything inappropriate about your gods--”

“No! No, I...that's very kind of you to say,” she demurred, and knew he could probably see the tears on her lashes. She hastily ran her hand over her eyes.

He didn't seem convinced. So she did something that, since she'd been grown, she'd only ever done with her old keeper.

She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek.

Just as she realized with acute chagrin what she'd done, Arne Rofsen exited the hut, and his eyes lit on the two of them.

His grin was unnecessarily wide. “Champion, eh?” he said nonchalantly, then gave Kenric a wink, and walked off to this own abode.

Evra covered her face lest anyone see how brightly it burned.

What was she thinking?? She'd give Kenric ideas, not that a kiss on the cheek was in any way suggestive, but...it was a big deal, for her, and he probably knew it. Shades.

She tried to get a hold of herself, offer him some excuse, but he prevented her.

“Feldsen wanted you to come see him when you were done,” he offered in a mostly normal tone of voice. She searched his face, but couldn't really decipher what she found, anyway. She gave him a little smile, and disappeared up the hill.

Feldsen offered her the practice blades, and she accepted with enthusiasm. “Truly fine workmanship, I've never enjoyed practice weapons so much!” she raved.

“I make them,” he stated laconically.

“You make these?” Then she realized she sounded incredulous when she hadn't meant to. She gave him a little bow. “Unparalleled, friend. Would you consider selling any more? To my colleagues in the Inquisition?”

He grinned. “Only if they prove they can fight like you,” he answered.

She laughed. “Fair enough, I'm not sure who else among us is stupid enough to challenge a Stone Bear, but perhaps we'll see.”

She took her leave, and met back up with Kenric on the way out.

“Wait, where is Taelan? And wasn't Colette coming?”

Kenric grimaced. “Colette has gone back to the Thane to clarify some questions we had, but would like me to assure you that ‘your fight was a great spectacle and she hopes to see you at it again’. Bloodthirsty is a mild term for that girl,” he added, and Evra snorted. No one would ever suspect…

“And Taelan was called back by Harding, I'm not sure why but Farrow showed up just after you started, and retrieved him.”

“Hmm. I hope everything's alright at camp…”


	11. Chapter 11

The walk back was uneventful. Evra was surprised to notice that she was walking at less than her usual clip, but attributed it to slight weariness from her fight.

Kenric didn't make any more earth-shattering compliments, thankfully; she didn't know what she might do.

He did, however, speak more to her about his conversation with Svara Sun-hair, and her opinions of the Hakkonites as well as more information about the area than Evra had heard at first.

“Well we know there's a lot of Tevinter remains in the area, but apparently there's also an entire fortress - but it's covered in ice.”

“Ice! Tevinter magic, I take it?”

“Indeed, and no flame nor other means seems to affect it. But she suspects the Hakkonites have entered it somehow. It doesn't really matter - doubtful they could make use of any Tevinter magic, and although I'd love to see the inside of such a place I'm sure there's nothing the Hakkonites could use against us.”

He paused.

“What is it?”

“The fact that they could get through such a barrier...clearly their ice magic is quite advanced.”

“Well I could have told you that,” she replied flippantly. But then she looked at his face, and realized what he was trying to say.

“Professor, you needn't worry about me, I'm fine, you saw that today.”

“Yes, but I also saw how reckless you are, and how aggressively you fight--and would you _please_ call me Bram?”

“I am not reck--oh. I...alright then.” She cleared her throat. It was a simple request; they were friends, of a sort, and he was right - she didn't work for him, or study under him, so using his title all the time was a little overly formal. And she'd already told him to use _her_ name...well, the one she went by, anyway…

Why was she overthinking it so much? Just say it.

“As I was saying...Bram,” she managed, “I am not reckless, I'm...what? What is it?”

He'd sighed heavily, and his eyes were closed; he clearly wasn't listening any longer.

But when she took his arm for a moment, he grew faintly pink, and gave a little cough. “Sorry, nothing, please go on. So you're _not_ reckless - you could have fooled me. And Harding, and Taelan, and--”

“Fine! Fine, yes that is actually my biggest problem when fighting, and I need to work on it, before someone else gets hurt because of me.”

She'd never mentioned this fear before, but her close friends had to know she carried it in her head always.

“I'm sorry, I was mostly teasing, I didn't mean to touch a nerve. I doubt anyone is in danger with you, you’re more capable than anyone I've ever seen. Or read about, to be honest. Haven't technically _seen_ that many people fighting like that, not really something that's done at the University...but I've definitely read about some--”

“Bram. You're rambling.”

He swallowed, and gave a nervous chuckle. “Bad habit.”

When they returned, all was business as usual.

Micael looked her over but with raised eyebrows pronounced her to be without serious injury.

Harding was out on reconnaissance ahead of the Inquisitor and her companions, and Taelan was apparently with her. But Evra could find no evidence of an emergency.

A mystery indeed, but nothing she could do to satisfy her curiosity now.


	12. Chapter 12

“I'm telling you, she just got a wild hair and wanted me with her - and regained her confidence in you I guess... anyway I couldn't do anything but watch regardless.”

Evra glared at Taelan, but she could see no point in persisting. It still seemed odd for Harding to fetch him specifically when there were other scouts, other mages, but she mentally shrugged. Best to let it go.

It was early, and they both had guard duty for a few hours until lunch. This passed by in a sort of fog for Evra - she wondered later if she'd have been able to catch any suspicious movement outside the camp at all, in her state.

She had to stop thinking about it. About him. She was only leading herself down a path of heartache and pain. She spent several hours repeating a list of reasons why she had to get him out of her head.

Point one - There was no future for a professor at the University of Orlais and an unknown scout. It wasn't unheard of for minor nobility to marry commoners, but a half elf who'd been living with the Dalish? Absolutely not.

Two - _who said anything about marriage? Dread Wolf take you, stupid girl_.

Three - she still couldn't be sure what would happen if she even tried to kiss a man. It had been nearly ten years, and yes she'd gotten much better about controlling the memories; they almost never came upon her unawares anymore. But that didn't mean something as meaningful as a kiss wouldn't cause them to resurface in a heartbeat. Did it?

Four - she didn't know Bram’s position on Templars. He'd certainly never expressed any opinion that was disdainful of mages, but what if he turned out to be a huge Templar supporter? That would be utterly unacceptable to her.

Five - _so now you're using philosophy hypotheticals as excuses to get out of your feelings? Coward._

Six - _I don't have_ feelings _. Just…inclinations_.

Seven - _pretty sure it takes actual feelings to cause you to start thinking of him by his first name_ immediately.

And so it went on, until by noon she was thoroughly tired of herself and her inner monologue.

But her thoughts took a different direction when they came off the wall and Bram was – Kenric, dammit! – was nervously bidding the Inquisitor good luck as they left out the east entrance.

“What's going on?”

“It's Colette, she went to check a location, something she thought she might have pinpointed in one of these texts, after the notes she took with the Thane,” he explained, pacing. “But she's been gone since before dawn, she was supposed to use a path that had been cleared, and return immediately, but I should have insisted she take a soldier with her--”

“Bram! I'm sure she's fine.” Her hand on his arm again seemed to stall his nervous energy, and he sighed and looked at her. “She's probably gotten caught up deciphering some evidence or something and forgotten the time,” she reassured him. “But either way the Inquisitor will bring her back safely.”

He smiled with real gratitude. “Thank you, Evra. I know you're right.” He took a deep breath, and marched back up the stairs to his cabin.

Number Eight - it was easy to be friends with him in this place; he was merely occupying the cabin, albeit the nicest abode in the camp but still rough lodgings. How might she feel if she saw him in his element? The fancy University, or the fancy house near it, where he lived? The gilt frames on the expensive paintings, the silk brocade on the elaborate furniture, the velvet curtains with tiebacks that cost more than her entire book collection?

She hadn't realized how much her utter disappointment at these thoughts had filtered to her face, but tried to clear her features when Taelan nudged her.

“You alright? I know Colette's a friend of yours. I'm sure she'll be fine.”

 _Bless you, friend, for providing an excuse_. “Yes, you're right.” She sighed for good measure. “Do we have any orders for the rest of the day?”

He shook his head. “Harding’s gone, and didn't say anything to me yesterday.”

“I'm going for a swim.”

“You're...Evra, you do realize we're not back home, right? There are hostile creatures everywhere not to mention the--”

“Yes, I know, the Hakkonites. Look Taelan, I've been going to the river to bathe nearly every day, what's so different about swimming?”

He grumbled, but in the end he meandered off, mumbling to her to not call for him if she got eaten by gurguts.

Just as she was coming out of her tent with her things, she noticed the Professor headed out as well.

And that looked like a change of clothes under his arm.

She ducked back inside. She had three options.

Catch up to him, let him know she was going to the river as well, so they could pick spots appropriately far from one another.

Stay here, leave for her swim after he got back. He wouldn't be long, he was just bathing…

Or...she could nonchalantly follow him out, and also nonchalantly maybe catch a glimpse of him if she so happened to stray a bit from shore.

By the time she'd thought of the second option, her feet had already put her on the path of the third, instead. She could still overtake him...if she hurried…

She didn't.

She closed her eyes for a moment and leaned against a tree.

How unutterably stubborn must she be, that she could make so many arguments to herself and still ignore them all?

_Fenedhis, Ada, get yourself together!_

Easier said than done.

Perhaps she wouldn't run into him at all, she mused. She'd already lost sight of him, although it wouldn't take much for her to pick up his trail, if she wanted to. But she didn't; she was beginning to regret her foolishness.

Then she heard a quickly stifled yell to her left, towards the river.

And then a very loud hiss.

_Dread Wolf take you, Taelan! You had to bring up gurguts!_

She dropped her things and ran toward the sound of splashing, and when she reached the water she nearly screamed. A huge white gurgut, bigger than she'd ever seen, was holding Bram under the water.

She yelled to get the creatures attention, and it quickly turned toward her; with relief she saw Bram's head break the surface and suck in a breath. But the gurgut immediately returned its gaze to its original victim, and Evra was forced to attack it.

Bram was trying to back up, but the banks of the river dropped off sharply and he couldn't get much purchase further out. Although the river was wide and less swift here – which was what made it a good spot for bathing – it was swift enough, and if he retreated much further he'd begin to get carried downstream.

Right into Hakkonite territory.

Without much forethought, she ran out a few feet into the water, and then launched herself at the creatures back, drawing her swords - which were always on her back, except when she was actively bathing - mid-leap.

She plunged them right beneath the beasts shoulder blades. It emitted an ear-splitting screech.

She glanced out to see if Bram was okay, and for an instant she worried the gurgut would kill him just because his attention was badly misfocused. He was staring at her with that same look on his face he'd had yesterday after her brawl.

The creature quickly took advantage of its target's distraction and batted him with a one huge claw.

He immediately slumped in the water, and floated against some branches that were blessedly in his path.

Evra screamed with rage and hacked mercilessly at the beast, who twisted and turned, trying desperately to dislodge its foe.

To no avail; after a few moments of cutting at its back didn't seem to kill it, she climbed forward using her swords as leverage.

And plunged a blade into each side of its neck.

It choked, blood spurting from its mouth. Before it was even still, she'd jumped off and waded, then swam as fast as she could to Bram's inert form.

She dragged him back to shore, ignoring the still-twitching body of the gurgut as it bled out into the water.

He wasn't breathing. _Mythal grant us aid,_ she silently prayed as she turned him on his back and began pounding his chest. After a second he choked _– thank the gods and the Maker and whomever else_ – and she turned him on his side as he coughed water out of his lungs.

Not really caring what he thought - she could write it off as confusion on his part later, if necessary - she held him to her for a few moments, warming the chill out of his bones. After attacking the creature, she was warm enough for both of them. It wasn't cold outside, thankfully, just in the water. He would be fine in a few minutes.

He _would_.

She spared just a few seconds to note that though he still had his trousers, he'd already removed his shirt when the beast attacked him.

She was surprised to see the clear outline of muscles along his arms. When he coughed, his lungs still sore from the water, she could feel his strength beneath her hands where she clutched his back.

Realizing how tightly she was holding him, she started to release him...but his arms were around her as well.

She _had_ saved his life; he'd almost died, he was probably shaken up. Best to let him remain another minute or two…

She made herself loosen her hold, but didn't push him away. She knew it was wildly inappropriate to think of at such a time, but...he really was quite beautiful…

Even aside from the (unexpected) lean strength of his body, his light copper hair had a very slight curl that made her itch to touch it.

She valiantly refrained.

And she'd noticed his little dusting of freckles before, but...there they were again, across his shoulders, along his arms where they still clung to her.

She shook her head at herself - if she invoked Ghilan'nain’s name once more today she might get struck down.

“Maker's breath,” she mumbled instead.

This finally made him sit up, and she quickly released him.

“I didn't want you to catch a chill,” she blurted out.

He looked skeptical but let it go.

“I...feel so stupid. I'm sorry you had to rescue me...if you hadn't come along--”

“But I did. Don't think about what if, it never helps.” She knew that much.

He nodded. “But...thank you. I can never say it enough. You really are a--well. You're…”

She stared, needing to know what he wanted to say, but afraid of letting him say it.

He met her eyes, and she realized she'd never been close enough to tell what color they were. Green, light green with silver flecks...“You're magnificent.”

She closed her own eyes for a moment, and looked away.

“I really fail to see...well, never mind, I'll try not to ruin your praise with my usual rudeness,” she said candidly. “Thank you, and you're welcome. Let's go back -I suddenly don't have any desire to swim anymore today.”

She retrieved her swords from the creatures corpse, and wiped them on the now-untucked and tattered hem of her shirt.

Which she now noticed was ruined. The creature's spines and scales had sliced right through it in some places. She also had numerous cuts and scrapes from said beast, to add to her bruises from the day before.

Magnificent indeed, she thought with disgust. How could he say such a thing of her? He must know countless beautiful women – ladies – who would never be caught dead with cuts and bruises, fighting with barbarians, cleaning their weapons in their clothes…

She felt a ball of self-pity welling up in her chest, but she stifled it. It was stupid to think that way - she was who she was, and she shouldn't be pining over something she could never attain. Besides, she clearly held some...fascination, for him. For whatever reason. She should be glad of it and leave it at that.

When she turned back, Bram was staring, but hastily looked away. He pulled the clean shirt he'd brought from his pile of things on a rock near the water, and tossed it to her.

“Why--”

“Your shirt...might was well not exist,” he pointed out. She knew it had holes in it but…

She looked down and this time got a better view of her chest, for one thing.

Her face flushed a little, but after all, the members of her clan had seen her in such a state many times.

“It's also the back." He coughed.

She bid him turn around again, and when he did she pulled her shirt off; sure enough, somehow it had ripped wide open across the top in back.

She didn't know why he'd be so discomfited by that, he'd seen some of her torso the other day when she'd had Micael’s salves on her back…

Oh. He could see the scars.

Well, shit.


	13. Chapter 13

When they got back, she notified the quartermaster that there was a huge, rare gurgut upstream on the river, if he wanted to salvage it for anything. He blinked in surprise, but sent several soldiers to bring back what they could.

She’d avoided Bram's questions on the way back, somehow, and a short time later was granted further reprieve when Inquisitor Trevelyan returned, a bedraggled Colette in tow.

Her face, however, was more vibrant than Evra had ever seen it.

While the Inquisitor gave Bram a summary of what had happened, Colette ran over to Evra and gave her the news.

“They were there! I found physical evidence, Ev! Orinna and Haron!”

Evra gasped and pulled her into her tent.

“Tell me everything!”

The elf explained what she'd discovered at the temple – after getting attacked by lurkers, being saved by Her Worship, and then leading them to the ruins. Templar glass at the site, and an Avvar epitaph to two warriors, warriors who were _not_ Avvar.

Thus it was nearly an hour later that Colette returned to the cabin to change, and saw the professor, whose extremely out-of-character cuts and scrapes told a more compelling story than any that were visible on Evra.

A few minutes later, Colette burst into her tent again, and hugged her fiercely.

Evra wasn't normally one for hugging, but her recent emotional turmoil was enough to make her welcome it, now.

“I'm fine, he's fine, don't worry, Colette.”

“I do worry! I can't leave you two alone for a few hours, see what happens!”

Evra chuckled wearily. “Untrue, you left us yesterday after the arena battle. And we got home fine.”

“Well, granted, but please be careful, if he dies I will lose a job, and the nicest boss I've ever had, and if you die I'll lose a friend!”

Evra hugged the girl again to avoid her seeing the tears that sprung to her eyes. It was odd that she'd become so close to her in just a week or two, but perhaps part of it was that Colette, too knew the struggle of trying to fit in where you didn't feel you quite belonged.

“I'll be careful," she promised. "But perhaps you should have Harding assign Bram—the Professor a guard whenever he leaves the camp.”

“Indeed,” Colette replied cheekily, “how about you? You could accompany him whenever he goes to bathe…”

“Colette!!” Evra gasped in horror. It was the first time the other woman had revealed she suspected her friend had feelings for the professor; she'd dearly hoped the girl was clueless about it, but apparently not such luck. “That's ridiculous!”

“But surely if you rescued him, you saw his muscles, no?”

“And how would _you_ know about his muscles, young lady? Hmm? If you're so keen on them, you should pursue them yourself. It would be more appropriate!”

“Evra! Don't be ridiculous, I'm not interested in him like that, nor is he in me.”

“Then why bring up his muscles?”

Colette giggled delightedly. “I wanted to see if you'd get angry with me, and you did! I love experiments…” and she tripped out of the tent before Evra could catch her.

She flipped back down onto her cot, ignoring her sore back, and laid there until she managed to fall asleep, skipping dinner.

As soon as she woke, quite early the next morning, she determined she would NOT think about Bram. The professor. And certainly not in any inappropriate ways.

She also hoped to continue avoiding any queries from him about the scars on her back. Perhaps if she could refrain from being too friendly with him, he wouldn't ask…

Her resolution was easier once she was distracted by their next mission. Harding wanted Evra and Taelan to accompany herself and Bram--Kenric!--to a nearly intact ruin, to sweep the area for hostile Avvar before the Inquisitor arrived to work with the professor on some puzzles and traps inside that might lead them to some further information about Ameridan.

She tried not to speak to him, but he glanced at her a few times, although he was making sure to keep his face blank. She sighed at herself. She usually had no problem being cold to men when necessary, whether they were upset about it or not. Why did she care so much?

_Don't answer that._

Finally she nonchalantly altered her path so that she eventually ended up next to him. They walked in silence for some time, and she admired how he kept up with them. Colette had fallen a little behind, but Taelan slowed to keep pace with her.

“I wonder, Professor,” she said quietly,  cringed at her use of his title, decided she couldn't keep saying it, then forged ahead, “what do you do at home, in Orlais, for fun? You seem…”

She cleared her throat, but he just stared ahead. She was so glad he'd finally given up his silly Orlesian hat...his hair was bright copper laced with gold in the morning sun.

A ridiculous observation.

“Yes, Scout Evra?” He managed to put an infinitesimal sharpness on the title, and she flinched.

“You seem quite fit,” she mumbled.

“Ah, you cannot reconcile the Orlesian fop you know I must be with...what you saw yesterday?”

His cheeks were slightly pink, but this whole morning she'd thought him hurt at her standoffish manner, when in fact he was angry with her.

But why?

Confusion loosened her tongue. “Bram, you know I don't think you're a fop, don't be ridiculous!” she whispered fiercely.

He glanced sideways at her, his ire seeming to fade somewhat.

She transferred her gaze to the trees. “Look, I haven't...I know you'd wonder about the scars. And I didn't want to tell you. It's not a good story. But...if you want to know, I will. When we get back.”

“It's not my business to ask you,” he demurred. “It was rude and inquisitive of me to make you feel you had to even bring it up, and I apologize. You needn't tell me anything you don't wish to.”

Her stomach clenched. Why must he be so gods-damned _nice_? It made it dreadfully difficult to maintain her stoic demeanor. “Perhaps, but... we'll see.”

“And Evra…”

“Hmm?”

“If you start calling me professor again I'm going home.”

Her snort caught Harding's attention ahead, and the diminutive scout glared at them, and held up a fist.

They stopped.

If they were attacked, the three scouts would have to defend the scholars in the party, so they had to be even more careful than usual.

But amazingly enough, they made it to the site without incident. Evra and Taelan were sent on patrols around the ruin while Colette and Bram studied what they could reach of the exterior. They only had to wait a bit for the Inquisitor to arrive. She only brought Blackwall with her this time – Dorian had begged to be allowed a long bath in the tent, and Varric had no interest in runes, especially if the scouts had cleared the area, rendering his skills unnecessary.

When Her Worship and Blackwall appeared, Evra marveled again at his sheer size. It made sense that he was Lady Trevelyan's main guard; nothing would be able to get past him. The Inquisitor herself was quite tall and statuesque, but Blackwall had nearly a head on her, and had to be nearly twice her weight.

A deadly looking sword graced his back, along with an intricate shield bearing a stylized griffon.

Well, at least they no longer had to worry much about guarding the scholars, Evra thought drily.

Bram and Inquisitor Trevelyan were already at work on some of the puzzles to open one of the doors. Colette was working with Taelan on some sketches, and Evra, while curious, remained outside, scanning the trees for any surprises.

Fifteen minutes in, she found one. Something reflective caught her eye, and she whistled to Harding and Taelan, a signal that meant “danger, northeast”.

Harding began to circle around, but Blackwall grunted and walked over to her, conversing in a low voice. Then Harding shrugged and nodded, and went back to stand watch inside the structure with the professor, his assistant, and his temporary student.

Blackwall then jerked his head at Evra, motioning toward their enemies, assuming that's what they were. “Stay behind me,” he mouthed, and she was glad to comply.

With anyone else she would have felt the need for at least a token denial, but now she felt no such compulsion.

She and Taelan crept behind him, staying back a bit, waiting to see how the wind blew.

He broke into a clearing ahead of them, and Evra was shocked to see an entire small company of Hakkonites, more than they'd ever run into at once in the Basin. They looked ready to storm the ruin.

Blackwall roared, swiftly whipping his shield in front of him, and all attention focused on him.

Taelan immediately neutralized one of the mages, and focused on the next.

Evra, though she enjoyed charging into battle, watched with awe as the warrior easily deflected literally all blows cast at him. Not a single arrow or sword found their mark, and even one of the great Avvar warriors’ mauls glanced off his shield with an impossibly loud ring of metal.

Bloody impressive.

With that thought, Evra disappeared into the shadows around the clearing, materializing to take out one, then another of the archers, then a warrior.

Now it was eight to three, instead of thirteen to three.

She faded away, climbed a few branches of a tree to avoid the mage that was looking for her, then dropped down behind him and slit his throat before he could shield himself.

Seven.

She looked around for Taelan, and saw with concern that he seemed to be locked in a one-on-one with another mage, Taelan’s fire cancelled out by the mage's ice, and vice versa.

He saw her out of the corner of his eye, and knew what to do from long years of working together. He turned slightly to one side, putting his opponents back in full view of Evra's blade.

She didn't try to close with him, afraid he'd turn and she'd be impaled with damned Hakkonite icicles again. Instead she pulled a throwing knife out of her boot, and with a well-placed flick of her wrist, the knife buried itself in the mage's neck, pinning his dark cowl to his head.

Taelan nodded, then turned to the five opponents who remained - no, four; one of the little scouts who utilized stealth lay dead from Blackwall’s blade.

The rest were easily dispatched.

She'd thought that she, Taelan, and Farrow made a good team, but there was no denying the use of a staunch warrior in one’s party. Especially one as skilled as this.

As they headed back toward the ruin, Evra and Taelan gave the big man a brief salute, to which he nodded, just a little out of breath. “No idea how you survive with no armor--Evra, is it?”

She nodded. “Armor slows me down.”

He shrugged. “Well you are damned quick I'll give you that. Certainly did your jobs well.”

“Thank you ser, that's high praise.”

He looked away.

She had no idea why, but she felt she had to say something. “Umm...Blackwall, ser? Could I...speak to you for just a moment?”

“Evra. Now is not the time.” Taelan was passing her, and she glared at him. But she turned a hesitant gaze back to the warrior; if he agreed, or wished not to be bothered, of course she would acquiesce.

“As you wish,” he said with what seemed like mild curiosity.

“I apologize if this is impertinent but...I just wanted you to know that I...admire you very much, and I know all you've done for the Inquisition and its people.”

He raised an eyebrow, seemed at a loss, but at least he didn't appear offended.

“And I think that people...can remake themselves, not always for the same reasons, but...you can't change the past, but you can change the present and the future, for yourself and for others, and that's what you've done, and I just wanted to say I think that's...very...commendable.”

Now that she'd said it (in a much less eloquent manner than it had been in her head), she felt foolish, gauche. But she couldn't take it back now, so she merely cleared her throat nervously and kept walking.

After a moment's pause, Blackwall easily caught up with her. He was silent for a bit, but as they drew up to the ruin – where the two investigators were fiddling about up top with some veilfire – he responded.

“You know, I get to hear a lot of opinions of my character from a lot of high and mighty people, on a regular basis. But I think the opinion of regular folk, people like you, is much more important. To me, anyway. So...thank you. I...appreciate your support.”

Her stomach did a flip, but she managed to look up at him and nod, which he did in return, and then they parted.

She hadn't expected him to be so humble, and kind. It just cemented her conviction that he was a good man, not the awful betrayer some people called him. That might be who he was before, but not who he was now.

She knew a little about that.


	14. Chapter 14

Once Kenric and the Inquisitor had figured out the mechanism at the ruin, the Inquisitor took Blackwall with her to attempt activating the rest of the devices, and the others returned to camp. They would request Dorian and Varric to meet the Inquisitor at a prearranged point.

When they returned, Evra insisted on bathing again (she refused to examine why she was now doing this once or twice a day rather than every couple days, if even that, as she'd been used to when out in the field). Taelan and Kenric were both vocal that she not venture out alone, and they merely stared blankly at her when she said she'd take Colette.

“I'll go with her,” Harding interrupted with exasperation. “I swear you two worry more than my granny.”

“Now that's hardly fair considering what happened yesterday,” Kenric protested.

“Alright, granted, but...if you or Taelan is going you should go to together as well.”

“Good idea, as long as he doesn't expect me to perform a death choke on a wyvern or something,” Taelan joked, and though Evra smiled a little, she felt a chill in the pit of her stomach when she thought of Bram’s cold body in her arms. Glancing at him, she knew he was remembering as well, and they both looked away.

Evra hadn't really washed yesterday anyway, not after the incident with the gurgut, and she definitely had some blood to scrub off from today's excitement. Harding stayed near her weapons, by the shore, while Evra bathed, and then they switched.

“Have you told him about the scars, Ev?” Harding asked unexpectedly as she caught the soap Evra tossed to her.

The taller woman looked away, silent for a moment as she dried off.

“I'm telling him today. But why would you ask, you know I don't tell any--”

“You know why I'm asking, Ev, and it's no use to play dumb. I know I tease you, but right now I'm being serious.”

Evra remained turned away, donning a leather vest over a clean shirt. She wasn't sure how to respond.

“I think everyone is getting ahead of themselves,” she mumbled.

“Do you?”

Finally Evra turned. “Lace, what do you think could possibly happen?” She hated that she'd said it out loud; now her heart beat hard with sadness, disappointment. It was true; there really was no good outcome.

“Don't be ridiculous, Ev. He's obviously taken with you, far beyond that if I'm honest. You should have heard him telling the Inquisitor about how you saved him from that beast yesterday--”

“He told the _Inquisitor_ that?!” she practically yelped.

Harding chuckled. “Yes, and you were described as a 'terribly beautiful spirit of vengeance’ if I recall correctly.”

Evra sat heavily on a tree trunk, glancing to the side as she heard the men heading back down the path to camp. How could he keep saying such things of her? Comparing her to such things…she was no one. Less than no one, in the eyes of some. Perhaps…

Her voice was low when she answered.

“We don't know him, Lace, I mean I grant you he seems... interested, and Maker knows I am, idiot though I may be, but…”

“You think he may just be infatuated, is that it?”

A tiny nod.

“You've never been in love before, have you? Not really?” Lace was getting dressed herself, and began gathering their things.

Evra shook her head. “I mean I've had... relationships, I suppose, but nothing...serious.”

“And I understand why, I think. But...look, I just want you to have some happiness, okay? Don't deny yourself that, on the chance that it might end up badly.”

She headed back to the trail, while Evra followed silently behind.

Maybe Lace was right.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Spoiler) This chapter contains somewhat graphic mention of past violence and rape, please read at your own risk.

Evra, Colette, and Kenric spent several hours in the cabin, going over everything they'd discovered. Taelan had made some sketches of the ruin and the mechanism before they left.

Evra suddenly realized she'd become an informal member of the 'research team’. It was the first time in her adult life that she'd been considered valuable not for her fighting skills, but for her mental abilities.

Could it be possible for her to...pursue this, instead of the other? To contribute in a way that didn't involve hacking the heads off dangerous beasts, and defending the Inquisitor from hostile foes? Would she _want_ that, even if it were possible?

A consideration for later, perhaps.

Colette brought them food, but Evra at little; the longer the night went on, the harder it was to remain distracted from what was coming.

She intended to tell him the truth...but was that really necessary? Maybe she could just...give him a summary, gloss over the events of--

But no, he'd seen the scars. He wouldn't believe it if she tried to pretend it was inconsequential. Not that something like that _could_ be, but…

Oh how she dreaded it. She'd only ever told two people, the first of whom was Taelan. And she almost couldn't have avoided telling him; he'd found her, and then later after she'd behaved so badly towards him, she had to offer an excuse for her actions.

And he hadn't placed any blame on her, although everything he'd said hadn't necessarily been in her favor. Lace had certainly expressed no criticism of her, but...

She shuddered. She'd gotten better about berating herself over it; she'd had years to think back, and she knew she wasn't at fault. But that insidious voice in the back of her head could never quite be silenced.

Had she drawn their attention? They hadn't bothered her family for years, not since her father...maybe something she'd done had attracted them to her house.

If she'd been more friendly with the neighbors, might they have come to her aid? They were a bit far, but perhaps they'd known the Templars were coming and just didn't bother warning them...she'd always wondered.

Maybe if she'd taken care of her mother better, she wouldn't have been so ill, might have been able to help her. But that idea at least she knew was ridiculous; if her mother had tried to help, they would have just killed her.

Just as they had her father.

She ran her hands over her face, and looked up to find that Colette had already left, and had taken the dinner things with her.

She stood, embarrassed that she'd been wool-gathering so intently that she hadn't even noticed her friend leave.

Bram stood as well, looking uncomfortable, and she wondered what about this situation was making _him_ anxious.

“Evra...I can see that you're unhappy about speaking of this. You need not. I have no business prying into your past, especially when it clearly upsets you to recall it. I...I think we should just--”

“No.” Something about his concern made up her mind. If she was going to tell anyone else, it would be him. Perhaps Lace was right. “I...I want to tell you. But it's difficult, so please just bear with me. Fenedhis, I wish I had some wine,” she muttered.

Immediately he began rummaging in a trunk, and pulled forth two bottles. “Gifts from a rival researcher,” he explained ruefully. “Congratulating me on my appointment to the arse-end of nowhere – they always considered my Ameridan research a wild goose chase. Hopefully this journey turns up something I can rub in their faces.”

Her smile was genuine, if fleeting. “Well I'll be glad to use their backhanded gifts to ease my confession, as it were,” she murmured, picking one bottle at random, which he then uncorked. “I know little about wine – the Dalish are better acquainted with mead. But I've developed a fondness for it he few times I've had it.”

“I'm afraid I don't have any proper glasses,” he lamented, but at least found better cups than the tin ones they'd been drinking ale from over dinner.

She studied him as he poured. Those freckles on his nose she'd noticed almost the first time she saw him...ones she now knew were echoed across his shoulders, his back.

“You never answered my question, you know,” she reminded him, still wanting to know.

He tilted his head for a moment. “Oh! That. Yes, I do a lot of rowing back home. Val Royeaux is on the Western end of the Waking Sea, it's much calmer there than other areas.”

She managed not to visibly react to this, but for some reason her internal response was a little more than she'd bargained for.

In the space of a few seconds, her train of thought went absurdly awry.

His freckles – she knew from her own experience that they were encouraged by staying out in the sun...did that mean that he...rowed about on the sea, sans shirt?

Her heart flipped over, and she downed several swallows of wine as she imagined the scenario in perhaps too much detail: his strong arms deftly plying the oars, his back muscles highlighted by bright sunlight, the spray from the water dampening his hair and causing it to curl over his forehead…

“Are you quite alright?”

She glanced at him guiltily as he sat across from her, the wine intensifying her flush.

“I'm...I'm fine.”

When had she last felt so attracted to a man? It had likely been several years.

She took another, more circumspect sip, and held the cup between her hands. She pulled her feet up into her chair, crossing her legs, and looked down at the deep red liquid.

Almost the color of blood.

“When I was fourteen, my father died,” she began abruptly. Best to get it over with. “I came home one day, and we'd been robbed, and he was dead. At least, that's what my mother told me. Even then, she knew I might do something rash. As you've seen is a habit of mine.” She smiled briefly, without humor.

“It was hard without him – he'd done carvings that earned us some money, and also hunted. I had to learn to do that once he was gone. We lived in a village, as I mentioned, outside Kirkwall, but we didn't speak to the neighbors. We were on our own, our house set a bit back from the rest, our company avoided.”

He sighed, but didn't say anything. She paused.

“Could you...sit next to me? It would be easier if…if I don't have to look at you.”

She hated asking this, betraying how weak she was, but he was about to hear the most hideous, awful thing that had ever happened to her, so she was already laying herself bare. Might as well not make it even more uncomfortable.

He immediately moved his chair next to hers, and sat his hand on the arm – his elbow just touching hers, his hand there if she needed it.

She almost cried, and she hadn't even started.

_Brace yourself, my girl._

“Three years passed. We had no trouble, except that my mother...became ill. She was dying, and no amount of healers’ concoctions helped. I gathered very specific herbs for tea, and it made her more comfortable, but I knew it was only a matter of time. I had no idea what I'd do when she was gone; live there by myself? I couldn't go into Kirkwall, I'd likely get thrown in the alienage. Mother brought up me going back to my father's clan every once in a while, but I knew they'd shunned him before just as our human neighbors shunned us then, and my pride wouldn't allow it. I would survive on my own.

“One day, I was out picking herbs for mother, and...when I came back...there were two men, in full armor, waiting for me. They saw me, followed me to the barn out back where I dried flowers and prepared the things I'd hunted. But they made sure I didn't make it inside – there would have been weapons there…”

She swallowed, and though her inclination was to keep her hands clasped tightly together in her lap, she reached out, and slowly linked her fingers with his. Maybe this would be easier if she actually accepted the comfort he offered, the support.

She took another sip of wine, and continued.

“I...asked them what they wanted. They said they'd...come to see if I had magic, like my father. They had to make sure I wasn't dangerous, they said.

“I told them they were mistaken, my father had no magic. They laughed. “That's what he said right up until he attacked us with it, and we had to put him down.” That's what they told me, they put my father down as if they thought he was a dog.”

Her voice shook, and she heard some faint noise of disgust from Bram. He squeezed her fingers slightly; she pressed on.

“I...I cut one of them. With my shears, I tried to stab him underneath his breastplate, but I couldn't get very far, his armor was too good. He got angry, of course. Said it was time they...collected the price they'd asked of my father. I didn't know it at the time, but they'd tried to get father to buy their silence about his magic...by letting them have my mother. He refused, tried to protect her, and they killed him.”

“Maker's breath, Evra, this is--oh _no_.”

He'd suddenly understood what she was about to tell him. But it was too late, she had to say it. He had to know just how damaged she was. Not by blades or animal claws. By something else, something far worse.

Her breath was coming faster now; the wine was actually helping, but not quite enough. She drank hers down, closed her eyes for a moment.

“They ripped my clothes off right there in the field. If anyone had come by, they would have seen, but of course no one did. Maybe on purpose, I don't know.”

Her grip on his hand had to be painful, but he said nothing. She couldn't look at him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his hand was over his face.

She took a deep breath.

“They...took turns, and the one I'd stabbed, he...made sure to cut me with his gauntlets. Everywhere he touched he turned them just so, sliding the edge of the metal along my skin, cutting me to ribbons.”

Through the pain of her memory she felt rather than heard Bram's shudder as he struggled to remain silent.

This made it impossible to continue holding back her own tears; her voice broke, but she kept going.

“I tried not to scream. I know I must have, but...I didn't want my mother to hear. After a couple hours, they left, but not before reminding me that there was no point reporting anything; who would believe a knife-ear? If I went to the authorities they'd likely imprison me instead.

“I crawled into the barn, tried to clean myself up so mother wouldn't see. Put salves on the wounds so they wouldn't bleed so much. Thought about killing myself then, but I--”

She broke off as Bram brought her hand to his mouth, and she felt his tears as he pressed his lips against the back of her hand. With her other hand she rubbed her own eyes.

“I couldn't leave my mother like that. So I went back, put bandages on, and clean clothes, and just told her they'd roughed me up. But she knew. She could see it in my face. My jaw…”

“ _Evra!_ ” His voice was anguished, and she risked a glance at him. She'd never seen anyone so upset by another's misfortunes.

“No,” she said suddenly, realizing what he thought. “I just meant from...from their blows, not…”

She sighed. “That indignity, at least, I was spared,” she whispered.

“As if that makes it any better.” His voice was shaking.

But she wasn't done.

“My mother died the next day. And a few days after, I'd sold the house to one of our neighbors for a paltry sum, and was headed to find my father's clan, the Elfaronan. I'd heard they were to the south, so I travelled that way. For a week or two, I looked. Caught sight of them finally, but on...on that same day, I…”

Even after all this time, she thought she might be sick. She stood, pulling her hand from Bram's, pressing it to her mouth. But a few deep breaths, and she got control of herself again. But she couldn't sit – this part was almost the worst; all her humiliation cumulated into these few sentences she had to relate.

She walked to stand in front of the fire, though it wasn't cold.

“I found that...I was pregnant. With the spawn of those hateful monsters." She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to break down again. "I immediately decided again that I was better off dead – and this time I followed through. With the attempt anyway, but I was young and stupid and didn't know enough about anatomy. I cut the wrong way, didn't bleed enough. But I was weak enough that even that amount of blood loss caused me to pass out.”

She wiped her face again, then dropped to her knees on the rug, arms wrapped around herself. She felt Bram's presence behind her, and she held out her hand; the worst was over now.

He immediately took it, and she held it to her damp cheek. This physical comfort was new to her, she'd never really indulged in it before, but she did feel safe, here, and she was fairly sure by his reaction that he wasn't judging her. Somehow this was enough to urge her to accept what he offered.

He sat next to her, and she surprised herself further by leaning into him, her head on his shoulder. In the back of her mind she knew she'd regret this weakness later, but right now she didn't care.

“It was Taelan that found me. He and another boy from the Anfalasen clan, Myr. It was actually their aravels I'd seen, not my father's. Myr thought I was a shem, advised that they leave me there to die, I probably deserved it. But Taelan could tell, and thank Mythal he checked my ears and saw I was a half blood. They took me back, and Keeper Ewanlas patched me up. And that's where I remained until I joined the Inquisition.”

“Please tell me you...you didn't have to--”

“I lost it. One blessing at least.”

He nodded, and she released her remaining breath on a heavy sigh. Not even for that did he judge her. For wanting to die, _trying_ to die, and for successfully ridding herself of what had been forced upon her.

Even Taelan had admitted, once, that he had thought her a little irresponsible, to have attempted to take her own life when she was with child. As if that hadn't been the whole point. She hadn't spoken to him for weeks.

She finally looked at him. “Thank you. For listening, and most of all, for not...scolding me.”

“Scolding! What right could anyone possibly—after everything you went through—how could a person dare—"

“You'd be surprised, the things I've heard,” she whispered. “Very few know of my own experience, but I've heard of similar, and people are just lucky I have barely enough restraint not to kill them.”

He shook his head. “I'm so sorry, my—Evra—” the pause was so small it sounded like he was calling her 'his Evra’, and though he'd only misspoken she felt that knot if shame in her shrink even more. He still cared, after all she'd revealed to him. It seemed impossible, but it was obvious.

“Sorry can't begin to...approach how I feel about what happened to you, but I'm also sorry I made you speak of it. I should have just left it alone, I've caused you too much pain--”

“No, Bram, it's...I honestly feel better, now. Having said it. I...was fairly sure you'd be...disgusted, and I guess that's not the case, so…”

“Disgusted! Well I am, but not with you.” Now it was he that stood, and fetched the bottle of wine and their glasses, bringing them back to where she sat.

“I'll be honest – I've not had much experience with Templars, and didn't have much opinion of them either way. But I have heard things, and this just reiterates how corrupt and rotten they are. It's no wonder the mages rebelled - Maker, think of what was going on in the circles!”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “When I found out the Inquisition had allied itself with the Mages, I felt compelled to join, if only to help them. I know those Templars weren't the only ingrates in the order, far from it, and I want to see them hanged for their crimes! Or preferably run through by my blades,” she amended.

Then glanced at Bram, afraid she'd perhaps gotten too enthusiastic. But he was nodding, staring down into his drink.

“I'm sure there are some that are decent - I've heard of a few that joined the Inquisition, even, so surely they're not all bad. But the majority…”

She was relieved yet again to find that his views closely matched hers on the subject of Templars. At least, they did now.

They spent the next hour discussing blessedly less painful subjects: her secondary upbringing with the Dalish, how she'd learned to fight.

After a long pause during which Bram drank the last of the wine, he turned to her. “Do...do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

She raised her eyebrow.

“Yes, I understand you've told me quite a lot of that today, but…”

“Go ahead.” Whatever it was, she would answer it.

“Taelan...hinted to me that...well, that I should settle for being friends with you, I suppose, because you had certain...preferences, but could I have so grossly misread the situation?”

She stared at him, confused and annoyed.

"First of all, why is Taelan discussing any of my personal business with you? And what does he mean by…oh Fenedhis!" she interrupted herself harshly when she realized what Bram meant.

She made a noise of disgust. “If he's going to tell my secrets he ought to at least get them right!"

Kenric blinked. "I…I'm sorry if I've caused strife between the two of you, I know you're very close so I just assumed he…"

"What exactly did he tell you?"

“Just that...you tended to confine your…” He coughed, looked away, “romantic encounters...to women.”

She shook her head. It wasn't a lie, exactly, but she would definitely take Taelan to task for revealing something so personal.

And so deliberately misleading. He knew exactly why she’d only been with women, and it wasn't because she was exclusively interested in them. In fact—well, best to explain this to Bram.

“I actually...am not that interested in females...romantically. It was only ever...for fun. I don't… _prefer_ women, not exactly. I just…I can't…"

She swallowed. "Women are soft, and kind. And I just couldn't...deal with the other.”

He sucked in a breath, and she was surprised, her heart abruptly set racing, when he laid one hand lightly on her shoulder.

Wide grey eyes regarded him, almost with fear, but not the kind she'd experienced before.

"If…if you would allow me, I could show you…that a man, too, can be kind."

His own expression was almost fearful, his earnest green eyes waiting patiently for her answer.

She hesitated.

Then turned towards him, the fire bathing one side of her profile in gold. Her heart threatened to escape her as he carefully closed the space between them.

“Please, never be afraid of me, Evra…”

She sucked in a strangled breath. Why this entreaty should nearly extract fresh tears from her she knew not, but she did think she could agree to his request.

She gave a tiny nod, and hesitantly laid her hand on his wrist. “But...you should know my real name.”

He came a bit closer, eyes searching.

“It's Adahlena,” she whispered.

Now his eyes closed for a moment, and the breath of a smile crossed his lips. “Much better,” he murmured, their faces now inches apart.

She almost dreaded the moment when their lips met. Desired it, with heavy anticipation; but she was so worried that the fear would come rushing back, as it had the first time, when she'd been 19.

She’d let a boy kiss her, and though he was clumsy and overeager, he hadn't been aggressive or used any force. But as soon as he slid his arms around her waist, his mouth covering hers with youthful enthusiasm, the weight of her past had threatened to crush her, and she'd panicked. It was too soon after what had happened, her wounds too fresh.

But she was older now. Had kissed several others, since, although never any men. Surely enough time had passed?

But he didn't kiss her. Could he see the apprehension in her face?

Perhaps, but either way he seemed somehow to know exactly what to do, and what to avoid.

His hand cautiously slid up, along her neck, never grasping, only touching. His fingers brushed back her hair, tucked it behind her ear, his eyes clearly admiring, and approving, their slight upward flare, the gentle point at the top.

He held her eyes for a moment, and then, he leaned down.

A soft sigh escaped her when he pressed his lips to her neck, just above her collarbone. Their bodies were so close she could feel his heat, but he didn't come closer.

He was giving her so much time, and space, and opportunity to push him away.

Her emotions were too close to the surface; her tears welled up again, this time hanging on her eyelashes.

To ensure that this stupid reaction didn't confuse him, she moved her right hand to snake behind his neck, encouraging him to continue with the kisses he trailed up her skin.

He made a low noise, perhaps of relief. But still he kept that breath of air between them, and left his other arm at his side.

A way out.

Did she want him to take another step? Go further? She felt aflame with desire for him, but that didn't mean she couldn't change her mind in a split second. And as much as she dreaded her own negative reaction, she also hated the idea of humiliating him.

But perhaps...perhaps _finally_ , she could--

Her train of thought was left unfinished when a knock sounded at the door.

She darted up, sitting back down at the table nonchalantly, her drink in one hand, the other laid on a book as if she'd been reading from it.

Bram blinked, perhaps at the speed with which she'd switched gears, but moved to open the door.

Harding looked between them apologetically. “Sorry guys, but the Inquisitor's found something. We all need to meet her at the Hold to speak to Thane Sun-Hair.” She seemed about to say something else, her eyes on Evra, but she ducked out, shutting the door behind her.

Before they could even speak, she popped her head back in.

“You have fifteen minutes,” she whispered, then disappeared once more.

Evra chuckled and stood, shaking her head. “Good thing we have Lace to make everything awkward,” she mumbled.

She stopped in front of Bram, the look in his eye one she couldn't quite interpret.

“I…” He looked down for a moment, then met her eyes.

“I wish I could call you Ada all the time, now,” he murmured, and the way he pronounced it...AH-da, exactly as it should be, with his own little lilt added to it…

She smiled at him, really smiled, as he'd never seen from her before, and his eyes widened a bit. She put her hand on his chest, over his (she was pleased to discover) rapidly beating heart, and he covered it with his, eyes questioning.

She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and kissed him, gently.

Her insides turned over, her thudding expectantly, nerves on fire, stomach in knots. She pulled back, her breath quick, her eyes meeting his and finding an echo of her own feelings.

She leaned back in, and this time, now that she'd initiated, he did eliminate the space, pulled her closer. Returned the pressure of her lips, softly caressing, lightly kissing the corner of her mouth, her bottom lip.

When her lips finally parted on the whisper of a whimper, his hand tightened slightly on her lower back, but he was still careful, not too aggressive; he deepened the kiss, just barely pulling her lip between his. She couldn't resist the temptation anymore; her whole body yearned for him, and there was not one single ounce of fear left to taint her desire. Suddenly, surprising him, she pressed into him, pushing him against the wall, claiming his mouth in such a way that there could be no doubt how much she wanted him.

She moved her arm from in between them – it was only in the way – and slid it around his back, a new surge of desire filling her when she felt his strong muscles beneath the soft lawn of his shirt.

She made a soft noise into his mouth as an image flashed through her mind – her hands caressing his naked skin—

But there was no time, now, to continue, and it was probably just as well – she didn't want to kiss him for the first time, then immediately fall into bed with him. But it _was_ important that he knew how she felt – that she'd gotten past the first hurdle, and there might be more obstacles ahead, but she was willing to attempt much, if he was the reward.

She pulled back, breathless, face flushed with wine and desire.

“We….we have to go…” she whispered reluctantly.

“Maker's breath, Ada…” he practically panted, and she smiled with a strange satisfaction to know he was in such straits.

He put a hand to her face, kissed her once more, softly, and then grinned.

“Better be quick, we don't want Harding scolding us,” he said lightly, and she nodded and hurried out before she could fall back into his arms again, especially in response to that precious smile….

As she gathered her gear, she marveled at how different she felt. Just a few hours ago, she'd been anxious, nearly nauseous, ashamed. But now…

She felt like she'd finally been able to let some of her hurt go. She would never be free of it entirely, she understood that, but to air it out to someone who fully supported her...who had let no breath of doubt or censure cross his lips. It was a balm to her soul.

Everything had changed.


	16. Chapter 16

Bram was less than pleased with the plan laid out around the Thane's fire.

"We will climb the walls, open the gate from the inside," Thane Sun-Hair was saying.

"My scouts will draw off the Hakkonite forces, away to the shrine," Harding added.

Bram's eyes flew to Evra. "Not…too many of them, I hope," he said quietly.

Thane Sun-Hair, mistaking his meaning, merely laughed. "Indeed, leave some for us!"

They would storm the fortress that night, and much would have to be done between now and nightfall to ensure their endeavor was successful.

A large contingent of scouts was sent to survey the area around the fortress and the shrine, to ensure they were well aware of enemy positions before they attacked.

Evra would approach the castle in Harding's party along with several others who would harry the Hakkonites outside the fortress, encouraging them to vacate the area just outside the doors.

Bram and Colette, meanwhile, would remain at the closest camp, in the trees, with a few scouts as guards, in case their expertise was needed for any reason, but far from the fighting.

Evra was happy with this, but Bram pulled her aside as they exited the cave of the Thane.

"I don't like this, Ada," he whispered, and she smiled softly at him, charmed by the way he'd instantly picked up her true name, just as she'd immediately taken to calling him Bram before, even in her head.

She looked around to see if anyone was watching them – someone was, but it was just Arne Rofsen. She winked audaciously at him before turning back to Bram and kissing him, to his shock and then great approval.

When she pulled away, Rofsen was there, slapping Bram on the back. "Ah! A kiss before battle, always a good luck charm. Care to give me one as well?" He leered at Evra, and she rolled her eyes at his nonsense, but Bram surprised them both by moving in between them and crossing his arms, a mulish look on his face.

"Don't even think about it," he practically growled.

Evra's eyes were wide for one tense moment – rowing and arm muscles or no, Bram didn't know how to fight, and he was no match for Rofsen. She should know.

But she needn’t have worried.

Rofsen merely laughed loudly and grabbed Bram by the forearm. "Good for a skald to have a little fire in him, I say! Good hunting to you both, my friends!" And then took himself off.

Bram blinked. "Did…did that just happen or am I delusional?"

She snorted. "Damned Avvar nonsense," she replied with a smile. "Come – we must go before Harding comes to fetch us."

After heading back down the hill to camp to gear up, they regrouped outside the gates, which was now manned only by a few injured and recuperating scouts.

Bram stared at Evra, and while before she had been confused by his flagrant compliments, now she felt a little proud at his reaction.

She was decked out in her actual battle gear – something she rarely wore. When doing reconnaissance, or expecting a only few foes, she merely wore her leathers: vest, pants, bracers, boots; barely more than regular clothes. Sometimes she didn't even keep her 'armor' with her, leaving it packed with the camp setup that arrived later in wagons.

But for something like this, where many enemies were to be engaged, her safety, which she so often ignored, was important.

She still wore leather pants, but these had chain sewn onto them in strategic locations; also a vest of chain, so light and flexible it was almost like a shirt, extended just below her hips. Thick leather bracers, much sturdier than the thin straps she usually wore, graced her arms, with metal plates along the top to deflect blows.

After hearing Thane Sun-Hair's story about how she got her name, Evra had decided it might be wise to bind her hair up, lest she give the Hakkonites – and their long reach – a target. It was still in its braid, but she'd wound it into a knot behind her head.

She didn't hate wearing the armor, although she found it slightly cumbersome after a time. But never had she enjoyed it as much as she did now, looking at Bram's face.

He pulled Taelan aside and spoke quietly to him. She wondered what they were speaking of – something about her, naturally, as they looked in her direction.

But for a moment, Taelan looked almost angry; annoyed, certainly. But something changed in his face as he looked back at the Professor, who was quite obviously struck. He gave a sort of tired smile, and nodded.

"What was that all about?" she demanded of Taelan when he drew even with her as they left.

"He's commissioned me," he replied, as if that explained anything.

"What does that mean? He wants you to draw him some ruins?"

Taelan rolled his eyes. "No, you nitwit, he wants me to draw you. He's going to frame it, he says. Come on now, you can't stand in the trail and block everyone," he added, for she had indeed stopped in her tracks for a moment.

She allowed him to drag her forward, her eyes unfocused.

"Well I must admit, Ev, you are very…warrior goddess in your actual armor."

She tilted her head at him. He'd never been one for compliments like that; in fact, he seemed to feel any compliments at all were awkward, and usually settled for playful insults.

"I…thanks, I guess?"

He sighed, and looked away into the woods, the setting sun casting rays through verdant leaves.

"Taelan, what is wrong?"

"Nothing, lethallan. I'm a fool. Let us catch up to Harding."

She followed, but was left more confused than ever at this exchange. Was he perhaps smitten with the mage, Dorian, and upset because his advances hadn't been returned? He hadn't really even seemed _that_ interested, but she hadn't spoken to him much over the past week. It was possible.

She mentally shrugged; they had been friends long enough that games were not necessary – he would tell her what was on his mind when he felt like it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note this is not technically a new chapter; I am re-organizing the chapters since it was a little confusing the way they were grouped before. However, I did add a new chapter, 19, that I skipped before (oops //sweats nervously//) so you might want to start reading from there to get that new content. Then there will be some new stuff at the end as well (Chapter 25+ I believe).

They arrived at the final campsite just before full dark. Evra almost wished she had time to ascend to the top, explore the little tree-huts that were now just shadows against the leaves. But she had work to do – they had to meet up with the scouts that were already settled here, get an update on the enemy positions.

Two scouts would remain behind with Bram and Colette, and the four of them would be ensconced in one of the huts, very difficult for any Hakkonites to get to, Harding assured her.

Evra was still a tiny bit concerned, but she knew she couldn't be the one to stay behind; her skills were too valuable.

The two scouts were readying the platform that would be raised by pulley to reach the arboreal camp – not as extensive as the main Basin camp, but there was food and water, and shelter there.

"Ada," Bram said quietly, out of earshot of the others. "Promise me you will be careful. I know I've praised your battle prowess before but…could you please just…be a wee bit cautious? This time?"

She smiled at him, itching to lay her hand on his cheek, but still wary of prying eyes and wagging tongues. "I have a good reason to come back, this time," she whispered. "I promise."

But when the other two scouts turned away to work the pulleys, she risked one kiss before he ascended; then she turned to follow Harding down the hill.

The next few hours passed in a blur. They'd realized early on how many Hakkonites manned the fortress – it had turned out to be their main base, not just an abandoned ruin, the site of some rituals.

But somehow the battle didn't go quite as planned.

The main goal of the endeavor had been achieved, yes: the Inquisitor and her companions were inside the fort, attempting to prevent some Hakkonite ritual from reanimating Hakkon, although how they intended to do that was as yet unknown, and likely would be until the Inquisitor accomplished her goal and returned.

But the scouts had perhaps made the job at the front gate a little too easy – too many Hakkonites had swarmed up the hill to the shrine, and already two scouts had been lost to their blows. Evra was felling them left and right, several times thanking Mythal for the armor that deflected their weapons.

The Inquisition was winning, but it was taking more sweat, blood, and time than they'd hoped.

Then she saw three of them dart off to the side. She thought they were trying to flank, and shouted as much to Taelan, who then whistled to Harding while Evra went after them.

She heard something behind but couldn't make it out above the din; was Harding shouting at her? But just as she slowed, she realized the warrior and two smaller combatants weren't coming around.

They'd seen the lights from the camp in the trees, and they were trying to attain the camp in order to split the Inquisition forces.

They knew if there were Inquisition members back at camp, at least some of the forces at the shrine would break off and go to their aid, thus making them a little easier to defeat.

The platforms were the best way for several people with gear to ascend to the treetops, but they weren't the only way. Further down, there was a ramp. Rickety, but plenty sturdy enough to support the Hakkonites on their trek upward.

Evra had never run so fast in her life.

Why had they lit a candle? Was it Colette, insisting on reading? Bram was just as likely a culprit in that scenario. But wouldn't the scouts have told them such a thing was dangerous? They were supposed to be in hiding, after all…

When she got there she could already hear the tramp of boots up the ramp a few yards away.

The platform was at the top still – she'd never make it in time that way if she had to bring it back down just to ascend again.

She'd have to overtake them on the ramp.

She caught up just as they reached the top. One of the smaller attackers got a blade to the back before they even realized she was there – the volume of their own passage masking the sound of hers.

The other she grappled with, his dagger coming down only to ring against the metal of her bracers, then she felt a painful – but not that dangerous – jab in her side as his small weapon was caught by the chain shirt she wore.

She was able to take him by surprise by forcefully throwing a hip into him, taking a glancing blow to her face but gutting him in the process.

One of her strengths lay in her flexibility in battle – she moved with agility, often like those that used stealth, but she fought like a warrior, though her blades were smaller than traditional swords.

She dodged into the hut to find the huge warrior Avvar had already laid out the two scouts, likely with one swing of his club…was it made of ice? She couldn't tell if the scouts were dead, but Colette was cowering in a corner, Bram in front of her, between her and the huge Hakkonite.

Evra let out a fearsome yell, and briefly requested Andruil's guidance as she dove in, trying to avoid the massive, strange weapon that was swinging at her head, but also to ensure that she remained in such a position that no blows would accidentally fall on her friends.

As she'd hoped, the Hakkonite went after more worthy prey – herself – and began heading towards the door, where she continued retreating after every blow. The cut she'd sustained from her last victim was now spilling blood down her face, which she ignored.

Finally they were on the platform outside the hut, and she would have breathed a sigh of relief if she wasn't already winded from her sprint, her climb, and now several sustained minutes of dodging this Avvar beast.

Then the warrior did something she didn't expect – shoved the end of the club directly at her midsection, with great force.

She did her best to dodge, but the chain shirt was of no use this time – it couldn't protect against blunt objects, only sharp.

Icy pain exploded through her side, and she doubled over, cursing her lack of finesse, praying she'd somehow be able to take the Avvar down with her.

Then she heard an impossibly loud crack, and the Avvar stood stock still for a moment.

She took the opportunity to lunge upward, planting her sword in his side. He looked down in confusion, and she used her last reserve of strength to kick him square in the stomach, her hand still on the hilt of her sword, sending him tumbling over the edge, her sword easily sliding free.

He landed with a thud far below.

Evra collapsed to the planks, and with detachment saw Bram toss aside one of those same planks, which he'd apparently _pried loose_ from the floor just to try and save her.

And it had worked. He was so brave – he was just a scholar, but look at what he'd done when he was needed. She tried and failed to lift her hand to his face as he knelt next to her.

Ice was crawling up her side, down her hip – the weapon had been enchanted, and the mail had done nothing to mitigate its effects.

Suddenly she was sad – all this time, she hadn't really cared about dying; hadn't _wanted_ to die, after those first couple of years, but just hadn't really worried about it. And now here she was, with something beautiful waiting for her – maybe not perfect, but beautiful all the same – and she was going to miss it.

And Bram…he would be so upset. He would feel guilty…

"So brave," she whispered, her hand now on his face because he held it there. His tortured gaze confirmed her worries. "Ir abelas…"


	18. Chapter 18

Birds. Where was she? They seemed so close, were they outside her window? And whose tent was she in…

She opened her eyes. Not…a tent at all? A hut…and she could see trees outside, leaves encircling everything, sun filtering through…

The battle rushed back. Hakkonites, the fortress, the shrine, chasing them up the ramp, that last blow that she thought had felled her once and for all.

She sat up – or tried to, then fell back against the pillows with a gasp, her side bursting into pain.

Pillows? Suddenly she realized she was in a bed. A _real_ bed. No Orlesian monstrosity like the one in the cabin, but…

Taelan appeared. "I knew you'd try to get up – I told him, the first thing she'll do on waking is insist on re-injuring herself."

Evra laughed weakly as she reached for the cup of water beside the bed. "Rude, but fine. I concede. Are we…in the northern tree camp? Or…"

He nodded. "We didn't want to take you too far at the time, and by the time you could be moved, the Professor had practically constructed an entire hospital in here for you, so…"

"W-what?"

Taelan shook his head, but this time indulgently rather than dismissively. "He's ridiculous. I've told him so. He doesn't care. Now lay back down, let me work on your injury again."

"Wait, you've been healing this? Where's Micael? And how am I not dead yet?"

"Very funny," he grumbled. "It's purely an ice wound, so I've been applying heat to it for the past few days, and—"

"DAYS? I've been out for days??" She stared at him in horror.

"Indeed. But don't worry, you didn't miss much. Just us beating the Hakkonites, the Inquisitor meeting Ameridan, all that sort of stuff."

"WHAT?"

"Will you calm down with all your enthusiastic questions, for just a minute?"

She huffed but did as he asked, noting that her side did indeed feel better as he held his glowing hands over it for a moment.

She let her eyes fall shut. She felt ridiculous, being weak enough to be out for several days, but she supposed she didn't care as long as Bram and Colette were okay.

"Is…is Harding angry with me?"

"Eh, she got over it once she realized what happened."

"Thank Mythal – she's scary when she's angry. So much rage for such a small person."

"I heard that," came Harding's very own voice from right outside the door.

She ducked in as Taelan left.

"I’m glad to see you awake," she began as she stood by the bed, arms crossed.

"But I'm in trouble."

"Mmm. Well, not _that_ much trouble, since you did prevent our University of Orlais liaison and his assistant from getting murdered, as well as two Inquisition scouts."

"They're alive? Thank the Maker…"

"It's very unnerving how you switch back and forth between two sets of gods, Ev."

Evra shrugged as best she could while prone.

"But yes, they're alive, although with quite a bit of broken bones and injuries like yours. Taelan has been helping a lot with those – they're here too, in a tent a few platforms away, so he's going back and forth."

"I shouldn't be getting special treatment, Lace, it doesn't look right—"

"Well, I would agree with you, however you've apparently gotten a new job while you were asleep."

"I…what?"

"You now work for the University of Orlais, in an advisory capacity."

Evra blinked. An…advisor? For the University? "Are you…you're not joking. What in the name of—wait a minute. Taelan left before I could finish interrogating him. What happened after I got injured?"

"Well, we routed the rest of the Hakkonites, obviously," Harding said as if pondering, "and then the Inquisitor and Kenric had a long chat about what happened in the fortress, and then—"

"Will you tell me the important parts, you evil dwarf?!" Her exclamation was not quite as forceful as it might have been, given her still-weak voice and prone position, but Harding just snorted.

"Fine – Colette tells me Kenric went to fetch someone himself, damn the danger, but we arrived before he even got down the lift. Once Micael and Taelan arrived, he carried you in here. I'll let him tell you all the good stuff about Ameridan, I'm sure he'd be disappointed if I stole his thunder."

 _Carried_ her in here…the wonders would never cease. Not that he wasn't strong enough, she supposed – she'd evidence aplenty of that. But…it seemed very romantic. Like something from one of Varric's books. "I still don't understand how I'm in a bed…"

"That's the mattress from Kenric's Orlesian beast. Your friend Arne Rofsen contributed the frame."

Evra squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, becoming more and more confused by the second.

"It's the…but where has Bram been sleeping?"

Harding glanced aside, and Evra followed her gaze…to see a cot with furs on it in a corner of the hut.

"Please tell me you're joking, Lace."

The dwarf shook her head. "He's gone absolutely batty, Ev, and I blame you."

"Hey! It's not my—"

"Here," Harding interrupted her, stuffing a couple of leaves into her mouth, which Evra quickly recognized as mint, and chewed dutifully, although she wasn't sure why.

"He's on his way back," Harding whispered, and then was gone.

All this was a little much for Evra's recently-awakened mind to comprehend. A bed? An advisor? Mint? What the hell was going on here?

She heard Bram's voice – an urgent question to Harding – before he entered the room, dropping his things haphazardly in a chair and coming to kneel beside the bed.

She'd almost forgotten how handsome he was. How could she have thought him a useless fop when she first saw him? He was good, and kind, and strong, and—

"I'm glad to see those eyes again," he whispered, taking her hand and laying the back of it against his face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, suddenly choking up for reasons she didn't understand.

"That makes no sense, my darling. You saved me, and Colette, and the scouts, what could you possibly be sorry for? Without you we'd be dead."  He looked away.

"Yes but I should have been there sooner, or better yet I should never have let anyone get that far—" suddenly she broke off.

"Did you…did you call me darling?"

His cheeks turned a little pink, and he didn't look at her. "I apologize. Perhaps I should not, I—"

She squeezed his hand, her expression rather serious. She'd not had anyone use sincere endearments with her since she was a child, and she found it...

"You should. It's lovely."

He smiled with relief, and reached out to smooth the hair away from her face. "Good."

"What's this about the University," she breathed, eyes closed, turning her face into his hand.

When had she become so needy of affection? She could blame it on her injury, perhaps…

"Well, I had to have some excuse for setting you up in here. Lace and I argued about it quite a bit."

"You…argued with her? Are you alright?"

"Very funny. But yes, she's quite formidable, however, as you can see I had a solution."

"You can't have gotten approval from the University already…"

"Don't need it. Professors with tenure have the capability of naming advisors to their research when in the field, no permission required," he said, and his expression was so self-satisfied and cheeky that she couldn't help but chuckle, although it hurt a little.

"Very sneaky."

"I can be quite resourceful when the situation calls for it."

She made some noise of agreement, and just stared at him. She still couldn’t believe he'd attacked that Hakkonite. That was the only reason she'd been able to finish the brute off…she hated that he'd had to risk himself, but it was also…

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, suddenly back to sounding almost bashful.

She hesitated a moment. Perhaps she should just shrug, make nothing of it. But his manner…he was making it quite obvious how he felt about her. Didn't she owe him the same?

But confessions like this weren't easy for her.

"I think…you've probably noticed that I…like you— _care_ about you, quite a lot," she began quietly, already cursing her awkwardness.

"Well I’m glad I'm not completely daft," he replied with a slight smile, touching her face again.

"I just…I'm sorry you had to be in that position, had to attack that beast, I hate that your life was ever in danger." She paused, and he waited patiently for her to finish.

"But I also…you were just…you were so valiant," she finally managed. "And I just want you to know that I…admire your courage."

He blinked. " _My_ courage? _Mine_? You've thrown yourself into much worse danger for me twice already, I don't see how you could possibly praise _my_ bravery—"

"It's not the same with me, Bram! I know how to defend myself, and I've been in those situations many times. More than I can count. It's not bravery that makes me do it, it's…I don't know," she said hastily, not wanting to get into her reasons for having spent her adult life constantly putting herself in harm's way.

" _Everything_ you've done is brave, Ada," he countered fervently, his intensity surprising her. "Standing up for those who couldn't do it themselves, people who were in the same situation you were all those years ago – with no defense against their persecutors as they abused their own power. How many templars have you defended people against, now? Yes, I know you say you’re just reckless, but that’s not all there is to it.”

“You see too much good in me,” she whispered, shocked at his assessment.

“I have a feeling I haven’t seen the half of it yet,” he replied with confidence.

She stared at him, and his confidence seemed to waver a little.

“Did I…do I presume? I mean, you did say you cared, so I thought…that is, I probably shouldn’t say things like—”

“Bram!”

She put her fingers to his lips.

“Hush.”

She moved her hand to his neck, and tugged gently – all she was capable of at the moment. But he obliged.

For a moment their kiss was almost chaste, but when his lips met hers, warmth bloomed in her chest, and she tightened her hold on him. Then sucked gently on his bottom lip, and was immensely gratified when he made a little noise of pleasure and shifted his arm around her so they were even closer.

Their embrace quickly left ‘chaste’ far behind, but after a few minutes he pulled back, and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You’re supposed to be recovering,” he whispered breathlessly.

“This is healing me quite nicely, thank you,” she responded saucily, trying to kiss him again, but he resisted, even though he chuckled.

“I really don’t want you to overdo it, at least for a couple more days,” he insisted, kissing her forehead. “But I know what will distract you…”

“Nothing could possibly—”

“A bath?” he said lightly, standing up.

She was indeed distracted. “ _What?_ ”

“Too easy…and yes, I just got the tub here from the Basin camp this morning, and we’re bringing up water for you and Dremyss and Simmons now. Since you can’t get below.”

She couldn’t move too much but settled for a squeal of delight. “But wait, you had a tub at the Basin camp? Why didn’t you use that instead of the river? You could have heated the water and everything…”

She had never seen his face so red. He looked away, and rubbed the back of his neck,.

“Bram,” she said quietly, with great suspicion. “Did you…were you trying to…”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak!” he burst out. “I wouldn’t have….watched you from the shore or anything! I went that first time because nothing was set up yet, but the other times…”

She clapped a hand over her mouth to cover her unladylike snort.

“I just…thought I might cross paths with you…and…and your hair would be down…”

Her expression shifted in the blink of an eye, her smile fading.

“I…Bram, that’s…”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, kneeling next to her again, taking her hand. “I swear I would never have looked upon you—”

“I’m not angry,” she murmured, putting her other hand to his face. “I know you wouldn’t.”

He sighed with relief. “I just…for some reason I thought if we ran into one another out there, maybe you would…be a little less formal with me, or less…I don’t know.”

“To think you got yourself attacked by a gurgut just so you could talk to me,” she marveled with a giggle.

He shook his head in shame. “The lengths I went to are honestly astounding.”

“I’m glad you were so persistent. And desperate, maybe,” she added with a smile.

“Definitely desperate,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again despite his earlier admonishments. But this time it was she who pushed him away.

“Sounds like they’re getting the tub off the lift,” she explained ruefully.

The anticipated article did indeed arrive shortly, but then came the difficulty of actually getting Evra into it without causing undue pain to her side, which while much improved, was still extremely tender.

Bram had naturally been kicked out of the hut, and Colette and Harding were on hand to assist. After much careful maneuvering, Evra was finally ensconced in lukewarm water, happily washing her hair – albeit mainly with her right arm, as the left one hurt to lift.

Bram refused to leave the vicinity, worried Evra would need his assistance; Evra called to him that he wasn’t allowed to provide said assistance anyway, considering she was unclothed, but Harding and Colette’s teasing rather undermined her severity.

“Sorry friend, I’ve things to do,” Colette said airily as she walked out the door.

“Yep, I’m on my way back to the Basin camp,” Harding added, following behind. “Hope you don’t need anything else, the professor’s the only one around.”

“Colette? Lace! How am I going to get out!”


	19. Chapter 19

Her friends’ threats having proved empty, Evra was eventually settled in the bed once more, this time with pillows behind her back – even though it made her side ache to do anything but lay flat, she insisted she couldn’t read while lying down.

Colette had wholly refrained from asking about Evra’s scars – thank the Maker, since Evra wasn’t really ready to go through the whole explanation again so soon.

Bram had figured out before Evra did that she would be unable to braid her hair with one hand; her frustration with this was his elation.

“Imagine that – all I had to do for you to wear your hair down all the time was get you deathly injured…” he said as he came and sat next to her on the bed, pulling a lock of her hair between his fingers.

She tilted her head at his strange tone. “You didn’t _get_ me injured, Bram, you kept me from being killed, so I don’t—”

“You were only there to save me in the first place. If we’d stayed at the Basin camp you wouldn’t have had to worry about us.”

“The Inquisitor might have needed you, your presence was important!”

“I just don’t understand how they found us; we were so quiet, sitting there in the dark for hours; Colette fell asleep, but I was too worried…”

She caught his hand. “I thought you lit a candle? Well one of you – there was a light, I saw it briefly when I turned to follow the Hakkonites…”

“A candle! Maker, no, we never lit any candles!”

Evra’s brows drew together. Could it have been one of their scouts, sneaking up into the camp while it was nearly unoccupied, and signaling the others?

If so...where did they disappear to?

Her brow lowered further. She’d have to speak to Lace about it. Then again, there were enough forces manning this camp now that one Hakkonite scout wasn’t really a threat, and besides, they’d been here for days with no sign of the mysterious enemy, so they’d likely departed the area.

Now she saw her opportunity to interrogate him about the Inquisitor’s ‘meeting’ with Ameridan, which until Bram confirmed it she was extremely skeptical about.

“Indeed, she had a ten-minute conversation with him, I’ve made note of every word as related by her and her companions,” he assured her, and promised that she could read through them all whenever she pleased.

“And here’s something even more earth shattering,” he added, his voice lowering, as if everyone in the camp didn’t already know all the details. But she smiled at his boyish excitement at relating the details to her.

“For one, he was a mage – as was his companion, Telana,” he breathed, and she raised her eyebrows. The current Inquisitor had no magic, and if she did it might make things even more awkward for the Templars.

“Maybe it will give Mages a little more creditability that the last Inquisitor had magic? At least, we can hope so…”

“Indeed. And along those lines…you will remember I’ve spoken of his companion, Telana, who some of my colleagues dismissed, debated as even existing?”

“Of course! So they were both mages…”

“Not only that. They were both…elves.”

“ _What_?”

He nodded with satisfaction at her shock. “Yes. Ameridan, last inquisitor, closest friend of Emperor Drakon – an elf. Do you know what this means for the elves?”

She sat back with a huff, overwhelmed by the possibilities. “And no one can deny it, the Inquisitor’s word and that of her companions can’t be shoved under the rug…”

“Exactly! And she was also able to recover his journal – his _journal_ , Ada! That’s what I’ve been studying while you were recuperating, and it is astounding, just absolutely brilliant! His commentary on his companions, the state of the Orlesian nation, the politics – I’ll let you have a look as soon as I’m done! Colette’s going to do a transcription since it’s quite brittle and fragile, but—”

“Well, perhaps I should help her – I need to earn my position as Advisor, don’t I?”

He chuckled. “I suppose, she could use the help, and then you could both pore over it together.”

But then he sobered. “You know…I see some similarities between him and you.”

“You must be joking. I’m no Inquisitor,” she laughed nervously.

“Not that – but he, too, seemed rather caught between two worlds. Remember the Dalish statues we found at the ruin that day? And his language, like yours, is laced with references to his elven heritage as well as Orlesian culture.”

She was silent for a moment as she digested this.

“It is also likely that his disappearance fueled the rift between elves and humans that led to the state of things we see today.”

Evra sighed heavily. “If only he hadn’t been lost, things might be very different now. My parents might not have been outcast by both their cultures…”

Bram gave a sad nod.

“Well, enough of that, perhaps you can help me with some of the elven language in the journal…”

Although Evra knew her ‘appointment’ as an advisor was merely a façade, she was still proud of her ability to contribute to his research – helping him decipher obscure references to elven legend in addition to translating the words and phrases.

When her clarification would help the pieces fall into place for Bram, his expression of realization and giddy note-taking made Evra’s heart clench with affection for him. Harding might tease him about his scholarly stereotypes, but Evra loved every one of them.

 

That night was a little awkward.

Once she was settled in the bed, Bram started to gather the books he’d kept at a makeshift desk next to his cot.

“Bram? What—”

“I was only sleeping here in case…you needed me—needed anything,” he corrected. “While you were still in danger from your injury. But you’re awake now, so I’m just going to get out of your way—”

“Bram…” she called softly, holding out her hand. He straightened, and set down his books for a moment.

“I…” She cleared her throat, her face flushed in the candlelight. “I still need you. If you want to, that is! If you wanted to stay, I would…fenedhis, I’m making no sense,” she sighed. Why must she be so callow with him sometimes?

But he sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her. “Are you sure? It’s no trouble at all for me to leave, there are empty tents—”

“Please,” she interrupted softly. “Stay.”

He did, bringing in a few extra things, like a screen he set up in the corner – so he could change without ‘disturbing’ her, he said.

She couldn’t deny that ‘disturbed’ was one word for what she might feel if she looked upon him partially clothed.

He brought another one he put around the tub, so either of them could bathe in privacy.

Although whenever she did bathe – managing, on the 3rd day, to get out of bed and into the tub mostly on her own, with a little balance assistance from Colette – he would always go outside, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. And he always attempted to bathe only when she was asleep, for the same reason.

It was a rather strange set up, but Evra was happy – her wound was healing, and in another week or two she would be back to scout duties. Most of the forces were back at the Basin camp, and soon the Inquisitor would make an attempt on the dragon that had escaped the Tevinter fortress and had settled near the island where Telana had been found. Micael had been working on enchantments and potions to help them resist the dragon’s deadly ice aura and cold-laced attacks.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: NSFW ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

At night, although Evra couldn’t really toss and turn as it still hurt her to lay on her side, she mentally did so for some time before she could fall asleep.

She and Bram often shared kisses during the day, but he never took it further, never tried to make advances. And in her condition she could hardly push the issue.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t think about it. A little too much. But having him sleeping across the room, dressing behind a screen that didn’t completely hide everything, bathing early in the morning before she awoke…it was torture.

She desperately wanted to be closer to him, and had debated the idea of asking him to sleep in the bed with her. But she was afraid he might reject her for some reason; and what if that made him want to actually… _sleep_ with her? That, she didn’t know if she was ready for, although she suspected she soon would be. But it would be cruel to invite him into her bed and then forbid him to do more than lay there…

One evening, while Bram was working with Colette on something, Evra decided to ask for some water to take a bath, so she could avoid causing him to leave when he was in the middle of something later.

She hated that she had to ask anyone to bring it for her, couldn’t get it herself, but contrary to what she was afraid of, the other scouts didn’t seem to resent her. And this time it was even Dremyss who showed up with the first two buckets.

“Dremyss! They didn’t tell me you were up and about already!”

He grinned. “Indeed, just put back on duty as of this morning,” he replied in his thick Ferelden accent, “and it is a pleasure to offer you my assistance, Scout Lott,” he sketched a silly little bow, and she smiled back.

“I wanted to say…I apologize I wasn’t able to get here in time, and that you and Simmons got injured—”

“Don’t be ridiculous! We’re just lucky you got here at all. I mean, I was out of commission already of course, but Colette told me how you saved all of us, well you and the Professor, bless his scholarly heart!”

Dremyss seemed to barely refrain from winking at her at this point, and she tried and failed to repress a smile, and had to look away.

“Indeed, he was quite brave,” she agreed. “I could not have bested that brute on my own.”

“That weapon was nasty stuff,” Simmons confirmed. “In any case, good to see you up and about as well, and I’ll be in with two more buckets in a moment. And bonus – these are already warm! We got the bright idea of putting all the buckets in a sunny spot this morning, and they’ve warmed quite nicely.”

She generously praised their ingenuity, and fifteen minutes later, she was ensconced in the sun-warmed water, her hair falling over the back side of the tub. Since she wasn’t out doing a lot of physical activity every day, there was no need to wash it as often.

The water was starting to cool slightly when she heard the door open. For a second she panicked – even though there was a screen around the tub, if Bram walked all the way into the hut he could see…

But perhaps this was her chance to dive in, so to speak. Maybe she wanted him to see her.

He immediately realized that if she wasn’t in the bed, she must be in the bath.

“Oh! Sorry, I’ve interrupted—I’ll just…come back in a bit, shall I?” He seemed quite flustered, and she smiled secretly – perhaps he was in as dire straits as she?

“Bram,” she called imperatively, and he paused, as she knew he would.

“Lock the door.” She was surprised at how steady her voice was, given the raucous pounding of her heart.

He didn’t move for a full five seconds, and then she heard the flimsy bar slide into place.

“M-my darling?” She could almost hear him swallow nervously, and again she smiled.

“Could you come here, please?”

“I…I _could_ , yes, but…are you…”

“Bram.”

Slowly, she heard him set his books in the chair by the door, and walk slowly across the room, pausing again for a moment before rounding the corner of the screen.

He took a deep breath, trying, she guessed, to control the cacophony of his heart, just as she was.

His face was flushed, and so was hers, but when she held out her hand, he took it, and knelt next to her.

She pulled it to her face, and leaned into his palm; he obligingly ran a thumb over one cheekbone, his eyes full of a myriad of emotions. Wonder, affection, concern.

“Kiss me,” she asked breathlessly, and when he did, she began rolling up his sleeve.

His breath caught when she pulled his hand into the water. But he didn’t try to stop her; if anything, he deepened their kiss, his tongue tentatively tasting the inside of her mouth.

She placed his hand against her inner thigh, shocked at her own daring, but knowing that he would never try anything if she didn’t ask him to, or direct him. Concern for her was always paramount with him.

He stroked her skin beneath the water, but then drew back and stared into her eyes, his still reflecting a question.

She spread her legs.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then slowly, his hand drifted lower.

When he finally touched her, she made a noise of satisfaction; immediately Bram reclaimed her mouth, his other hand behind her neck, but this time he was more insistent, his lips and his tongue echoing the light touch of his fingers.

She had anticipated it so much, had wanted this to happen for days, it only took a few minutes before she was whimpering with pleasure.

But then for one moment he stopped, leaned back from her just a little, met her eyes.

Then he slowly slid his fingers inside.

Her mouth fell open on an audible sigh as he slid them in further, their eyes still locked. He turned his hand so his thumb rested over her heat, but his fingers had only penetrated a couple of inches, and she wanted more.

She put both hands to his face, pulled him down until her lips were against his ear.

“Vhenan…” she whispered, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t know what it meant, but would understand at least some of the meaning by her tone. He did; his hand caressed her neck, threaded into her hair.

“Deeper.”

He groaned as he claimed her lips again, and did as she asked.

She gave a soft cry into his mouth as his fingers slipped further in…and then they curved upward, even as his thumb stroked her heat.

Her cry was louder this time.

His hands were so gentle, but put pressure in exactly the right places – she knew it was only a matter of another minute or two before—

He shifted his hand, his fingers pressing upward a little harder, his thumb sliding maddeningly across her warmth, and she took a deep breath, then another, one hand tangling in his hair, the other gripping the fabric of his shirt…

Then she shattered, a barely restrained wail escaping her lips as she came around his fingers, her body tightening, hips shaking slightly, waves of pleasure radiating through her over and over.

“Ada!” he gasped, his voice tortured.

She fell against the back of the tub, gasping, as he slowly removed his hand, then slid it up the outside of her thigh, over her hip, her waist, to rest on her rib cage, his thumb brushing the bottom of her breast.

She bit her lip; immediately, just like that, she wanted more – wanted him, wanted to touch him, please him, _have_ him.  

She started to rise, but his hand tightened on her wet skin, and he rested his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath as well.

“I want…I need to…” she tried to articulate, but he shook his head.

“There’s time for that later, my darling,” he whispered breathlessly.

“But it’s not fair to you, to just use you for my own—”

“I assure you, that pleased me almost as much as it did you.”

For whatever reason, his words piqued her desire again, and though she knew he was right, and she shouldn’t rush, she reached down and tugged his hand till it rested over her breast.

This time he did groan, and she pushed slightly out of the water, wanting him to feel the full weight of it in his hand.

“Ada…please…evil woman,” he breathed, caressing her obligingly, but only for a moment. Then he valiantly stood, resisting any further attempts from her, for now at least.

He grabbed the towel that was thrown over the screen, and though she sighed with disappointment, she prepared to get out.

It took longer than she liked, or than he realized; once he understood that it took all her strength to stand from her position in the tub without crying out in pain, he immediately wrapped the towel around her half-bent form, and picked her up, ignoring her protestations, and set her in the bed.

“Bram! You needn’t—"

“Need I not? You’re clearly still hurting, why have you been doing this by yourself for several days, I shudder to think how much it must have hurt the first time…”

“Well…it did, but at least I was being self-sufficient!”

“Ridiculous woman.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice suddenly losing its volume. He tilted his head at her in confusion. “It…it does hurt.”

“Ah, my poor darling,” he whispered, pulling her to him and stroking her hair. “But Taelan said you should be recovered in another week, yes?”

“Yes, and I was thanking the Maker I could get out and do my job, but…”

She drew back and looked up at him.

“It means I’ll have to be away more often, and now I’m not so sure I like that idea.”

He smiled. “Me neither.”

“Perhaps I should remain an ‘invalid’ a little longer.”

“I fully support that. Don’t want to overdo it too early, you might re-injure yourself.”

She nodded decisively.

Bram moved away to fetch her clothes as she dried off. She got back into her underthings and shirt, and then glanced surreptitiously at the cot.

“Ada. What are you up to now.”

Suddenly she felt contrite, ashamed. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to do any of that – he seemed like he enjoyed it, said he enjoyed it, but perhaps she’d played too much on his lust, as a male, and she shouldn’t have done that.

“I…I’m sorry if you feel like I manipulated you into…I would never want you to do anything you didn’t—”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he exclaimed, clearly taken aback. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready—” he sat on the bed next to her, his voice becoming a little husky. “If you want me to be honest, I’ve been wanting to touch you ever since that night we first kissed,” he admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushed.

She was flooded with relief and gratification.

“I just…I swore you needn’t fear me, and I still swear I will never do anything unless you ask me to first. So just because I haven’t tried…please don’t think I don’t want to. Whatever it is…I do want to.”

Tears stung her eyes, clung to her lashes, but she took a deep breath and restrained them. She put her hand to his face.

“Thank you…vhenan,” she said softly. As before, he seemed rather affected by this endearment, and wrapped his arms tight around her.

“So I take it you want to ask me to sleep in the bed with you?”

She nodded against his chest.

“Okay.”

She made a noise of confusion, muffled by his shirt.

“I will. But just remember, if you…want anything, from me, you have to ask, alright?”


	21. Chapter 21

From then on they slept in the same bed; the birds woke them early, before anyone might knock at the door, so they needn’t worry about discovery. If that even mattered – everyone in the camp knew how matters stood between them. And Evra was touched to know that they all supported them.

She’d been so sure that many of the other scouts would either ridicule her for falling for the professor (which she likely would have had to settle with fisticuffs), or assume she was trying to attain a station far above her rank (against which she had little defense). Bram wasn’t especially wealthy, nor did he travel in the highest circles, but he was still nobility.

Human nobility.

She still didn’t know what any of that meant for them, but she was doing her damnedest not to think about it until she had to. She refused to torment herself with questions of the future.

Taelan soon announced that he could do nothing more for her wound – he had eradicated all the ice magic, now her flesh just had to heal normally, and she would need to begin exercising in small amounts to get her full strength back.

She immediately attempted to do some of her regular exercises, and within minutes was bent over, clutching her side. Taelan had no sympathy for her, but stood in the door shaking his head. After a moment, though, he came to help her back to the bed.

“I said gradually, you nitwit,” he scolded.

“I don’t know how to do gradual,” she grumbled.

“I’ve noticed that,” he replied, and something in his tone made her eyes search his.

“Lethallin?”

He sighed. “I need to apologize.”

“For what, your terrible bedside manner?”

He glared at her. “No, _that_ you deserve. And hush, I’m being serious.”

She sat up a little, tilting her head. Taelan was rarely serious.

“I may have…discouraged the professor. Originally. I thought I was protecting you, but that’s stupid, you don’t need protecting.”

“The comment about me preferring women?”

“He told you that, did he?”

“It came up once, yes.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t come find me straight away so you could deck me.”

“I considered it. I got distracted.”

He looked away.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she insisted. “If it were just that, you would have made a joke of it.”

“Damn you and your perceptive eyes, Ada…” She knew her suspicion was correct when he slipped to calling her by her elven name; since they’d been in the Inquisition he had only done that when he was very upset, which had been exactly once.

“I lied to you about something else,” he continued. “A long time ago. And I’ve lied about it ever since. But I think it’s time I told you the truth.”

Her stomach turned over. She had never once heard this tone of voice from him, not in the decade that they’d been friends, almost kin.

“You’re scaring me…”

His eyes flew to hers. “No! I don’t—I’m trying to make this _right_ , lethallan, just bear with me, please?”

She nodded, and took his hand. He stared down at where she held it as if confused, then looked away again.

“When I told you that I…that pursuing you was a mistake, that I wasn’t really interested in women anyway…do you remember that?”

“Of course I remember.” She would never forget that entire episode in her life.

“It was a lie.”

“It was…what? Why would you lie about that? And what part was a lie?” She wasn’t even angry, just perplexed.

“It is partially true that I prefer the company of men – as I’m sure you’ve noticed by whom I choose to pursue at any given time. But…I am not…uninterested in women.”

“Alright, makes no difference to me…”

He stared at her, and finally she saw what he was trying to say.

“Taelan, you can’t possibly mean that…that you…”

“It was a mistake, trying to change our relationship, that much was true, but not because I mistook my feelings. Because you weren’t ready, might never have been ready, I thought, and I was so worried that…that you would be afraid of me after that, so I told you I wasn’t attracted to you so you wouldn’t be scared of me. And it was dishonest, and I don’t deserve to have had you as a friend this long with such a lie hanging over my head.”

“Okay, I’ll be honest,” she replied, her voice unsure, “I’m a little shocked. But don’t be ridiculous, we were practically children then! I’m sure there are lots of situations that we may have mishandled, it doesn’t mean our friendship is—”

“You’re still not getting what I’m telling you, Ada,” he cut in. “I…I thought I could avoid this, because I _knew_ , I could _tell_ that you didn’t fancy a real relationship with any of the girls you’ve passed time with over the years, and I thought you’d never…ah, Dread Wolf take me!”

“Taelan, just spit it out,” she insisted in a low voice, the knots in her stomach having nothing to do with her injury.

He left his head in his hands, but she could hear his voice clearly.

“I…I’ve been in love with you all this time, and I’m telling you…that I’m leaving because the Professor deserves you as I never have, and it’s wrong of me to hang about. And I’m sorry I tried to jeopardize that, and I’m sorry I lied, and I’m just…I…”

She didn’t know what to say. She felt as if she’d been knocked flat with the Hakkonite weapon once again. Her best friend for all these years… “T-taelan…I…”

“And I’m sorry about what I said about your…about what happened to you – that was a lie as well, if you hadn’t lost that baby and had asked me for help getting rid of it I would have done it, I would have done _anything_ if I thought—but it doesn’t matter now. The point is, you don’t need me anymore, and I’m asking Harding for a new assignment, so I’ll be gone shortly.” He got up and headed for the door.

“Taelan, no!” she cried with tears in her eyes. He couldn’t just leave her, he was her family, her only kin even if it wasn’t by blood. “Please, we have to talk about this, just give me some time to—”

“Trust me, time to stew over it is not going to help. It’ll probably make you happy I’m leaving, when it really sinks in how dishonest I’ve been.”

“You’re my best friend! You can’t just disappear because you’ve made some confession!”

He stopped in the doorway. “I…if it makes you happy, I’ll wait a day or two. But I’m going back to Basin camp, I can’t…I’m sorry, I can’t be around you two anymore.”

Her tears finally fell as he left. She hadn’t cried like this in years – she hadn’t lost anything this precious to her, in recent memory. All the things he’d said were secondary to the fact that he was leaving. Perhaps she should try to focus on the import of his confession, but all she could feel was a hole in her heart.


	22. Chapter 22

Bram found her twenty minutes later, curled up on the bed, staring with damp, dead eyes. He rushed to her side.

“Ada? What’s happened, are you alright?”

She remained silent, but leaned up and linked her arms around his neck, her tears beginning to resurface. He could feel her slight shudders as she tried to contain them.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong, my darling?” he murmured as he stroked her hair.

Taelan had been wrong about one thing – Bram didn’t deserve her. He deserved much better. She was broken, damaged, although with him she felt like she’d at least _found_ the pieces she was missing, even if they weren’t magically reassembled into the shape of a normal person.

She sighed. “Taelan’s leaving,” she whispered.

“What? Why? On purpose or…”

She’d been thinking about what to tell him. The truth? It would just make him uncomfortable, and it wouldn’t be fair to lay that on him.

But she hated lying, especially to him.

“He…has some things to sort out,” she said vaguely; maybe later she would tell him all of it.

“Ah.” He laid his cheek on top of her head. “I’m sorry…”

The way he said it made her blink. She leaned back, looked at him. “Bram? Did he…did he already speak to you or something?”

“To me? Maker, no. But…Colette had some suspicions.”

“Oh.”

“Not that she spoke ill of him, it just…came up, before you awoke…”

“I see. I suppose everyone could see the obvious but me.”

“It was hardly obvious, I mean I never would have guessed…but then I’m not the most observant when it comes to people,” he added ruefully.

“I thought I was good at listening, seeing, but…apparently not good enough,” she whispered.

“Would it have been better or worse? If you’d found out sooner?”

She pondered this. She had her clan, to some extent, but there were those among them who had never fully accepted her. Taelan had been her staunchest ally up until they joined the Inquisition – and she had already suspected he only did that on her account; now she worried even more that this was the case.

Once they’d joined, she’d unexpectedly developed a friendship with Harding, but their relationship was not on a par with what she had with Taelan.

“It’s impossible to say. We’ve been inseparable for so many years, I can’t imagine being without him over any of that time…”

“Do you want him to stay?”

She looked up. “I would think it would make _you_ uncomfortable.”

“It’s not my decision.” His face was unreadable.

“Yes but your feelings matter to me!”

He smiled slightly, and squeezed her hand, but looked away. “Thank you, but it wouldn’t be fair for me to claim precedence suddenly over your closest friend. You two have been through too much together.”

She could tell he wasn’t exactly pleased about the situation, but was trying to be reasonable. She brought his hand to her face. “I’m sorry, Bram.”

He was quick to deny any need for her to apologize, of course. “None of it is your fault, Ada. And it need not…affect me, exactly, in any case.”

She sighed. “I have a feeling once I’m done being upset my anger will be unparalleled, so perhaps I should wait for that to set in before I cut him any slack.”

“Well…I understand that he kept his feelings from you, but that hardly seems enough to incur such rage?”

She’d forgotten he didn’t know the whole story. Again she debated telling him, but decided against it. However, she wouldn’t lie.

“There are…other circumstances,” she said quietly.

“I see.”

“I would…prefer not to explain it right now, it’s…”

“No need,” he interrupted. “Would you like to help me with more of Ameridan’s journal?”

She nodded decisively, glad to have something else to concentrate on.


	23. Chapter 23

She didn’t speak to Taelan again for a few days; he made good on his promise to remove himself to the Basin camp, but assured her he would send her word if he was going to get reassigned, so they could discuss things before he left.

She couldn’t deny she felt bereft, in a way. If she’d ever needed to talk about any upheaval in her life – like when she’d first thought about joining the Inquisition, for instance – she’d always turned to Taelan. Now he was the reason for that upheaval.

She certainly wasn’t going to talk to Bram about it – she could tell that while he held no negative feelings toward her about the situation, he didn’t really know how to handle it, although he seemed glad Taelan wasn’t about, for the moment.

She decided to try talking to Colette; they were certainly friends, now, and Bram had said she was the one who mentioned something about Taelan to him in the first place.

“I hope I didn’t cause any trouble,” she said immediately when Evra brought it up.

“No, I just…since you already seemed to suspect the situation, I thought…I just don’t know what to do!”

“Well, you’d better tell me exactly what’s happened, because all I knew was that…well, I suspected, I should say, by the way he looked at you, when he thought no one was looking. I never would have guessed, before – he covered it so well, but then you got injured, and…”

Evra was now walking with no assistance, albeit slowly, and they were meandering about the pathways of the camp, from one platform to another.

“I still don’t understand what made you think it was more than a friend’s concern,” Evra murmured.

“Well, I’ll tell you, it was merely a coincidence that led me to realize it,” Colette answered, keeping her voice low.

“While you were unconscious, the first couple of days I was sitting with you during the day. Once Micael and Taelan confirmed how badly you’d been injured, and that you might not wake for some time, the professor immediately went off to the Basin camp, and the Hold, to work on making you more comfortable.”

Evra’s face flamed. “So much trouble,” she mumbled, “I can’t believe he did all that…”

“Yes, well. He was very…determined. In any case, I came in that first morning, and there was nothing in the hut then but your cot and a couple of crates. He was sitting on one, next to you, and—”

“Please tell me you all had a place to sleep? I didn’t see what supplies were at this camp before the battle…”

“We had bedrolls, and some tents were already up, yes. Don’t worry, it was rather an adventure. Besides, with the professor here, I didn’t want to leave, because he’d got all the good information on Ameridan, and—of course, you’re my friend and I couldn’t leave you,” she added hastily, and Evra chuckled.

“Alright, please continue.”

“So I came in and he was holding your hand – he’s terribly sweet when he’s in love, isn’t he?” She ignored Evra’s strangled noise and reddening cheeks. “And he held it to his face with this worried look. And naturally I already knew what was between you, so I thought nothing of it.”

Colette seemed to know everything…

“But then a few hours later Taelan came in, and I took the opportunity to go outside for a few minutes. And when I got back…he was sitting right there, doing the same thing as the professor, with the _very_ same look on his face, and I just…it nearly broke my heart, to be honest.”

Evra’s hands were over her face. How could she have missed it? All this time, and she’d seen no sign at all. Could he be that good at hiding his feelings? Or was she just oblivious, and naïve?

“Poor Taelan,” she whispered through her fingers.

“Well, to be fair dear, he could have said something at any time, right?”

“But he couldn’t,” Evra replied even more quietly. He hadn’t wanted to say anything because of what had happened so long ago, he assumed she would mistrust him, fear him, if he pursued her at all.

Suddenly it occurred to her to wonder what her feelings for him might have been, if he had indeed revealed his own. Could she have returned his regard, could their relationship have been romantic?

She couldn’t imagine it. Especially not now that Bram was in the picture. Taelan was like a brother to her, despite that clumsy kiss so long ago.

But was that merely her perception, because that was the role that she’d forced him into, and that he’d diligently maintained for the past eight years?

She felt tears burning her eyes, and realized she’d been ignoring Colette.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, I should have been more mindful—”

“No, it’s alright Colette, thank you. I just…I’m at a loss. I haven’t been without him in a decade, he saved my life when we met and has multiple times since then, I’ve never had another friend I was as close to…and now that’s all gone, no matter what happens. I can’t act the same with him, knowing how he feels. But do I want him gone from my life? Of course not…”

“Surely he’ll never be totally gone from your life, as close as you’ve been? Perhaps…” Colette seemed to be pondering, and Evra was happy for her friend to offer any solutions as she’d been unable to come up with one. “Perhaps it’s best if he goes off for just a bit, so you can get your bearings with the professor and all that, and you can both heal, and then…meet up again at Skyhold?”

Evra contemplated this. It was a possibility – Lace could send him to another camp; once the Inquisitor left here, she’d likely be going somewhere else after she went back to Skyhold for a bit – there was always more for her to do. So…perhaps him leaving now didn’t mean him leaving forever?

She nodded slowly. “I’ll see what he thinks. Thank you, lethallan.”

Colette grinned. “I do love when you call me that!”

“What? What’s so special about it?”

“Makes me feel connected to my mother. She was Dalish, you know.”

“I didn’t know! How did you end up in the alienage?”

“Oh it’s a long story, dear, I won’t bore you with it now. Someday, perhaps.”

“Well, I will be happy to refer to you in as many Dalish terms as you like, my friend.”

They parted, Evra now rather exhausted from walking for almost an hour, although she felt her physical strength returning overall.

Her emotional strength, however, was still in question.

Bram was struggling with some of Ameridan’s journal when she returned, and was bent over the desk amid several candles, but the moment he heard her he began to get up to assist her back to bed.

“No, stay there,” she insisted, slowly making her way across the room, to where he obediently remained in his chair.

For reasons she couldn’t quite name, she felt the need to reassure herself that everything was alright between them, that nothing had changed. She supposed it was the situation with Taelan that had her on emotional edge.

When she reached him, she pulled him against her chest, her arms wrapped around his back. For one moment he seemed confused, but then she heard a hum of contentment as he embraced her in turn.

“Are you alright?” His voice was muffled in her shirt.

“Mhmm.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. There were so many differences between them – Bram was sweet and gentle, where Taelan was bold and sarcastic, always joking. Taelan was a fighter, although he used his magic more for defense, and preferred the opportunity to sketch their surroundings rather than engaging with enemies. But he was a well-trained scout, and had had her back in many scrapes, had saved her life on multiple occasions.

Then again, Bram had saved it too, now, and they’d only known each other a few weeks.

She mentally shook her head. Why was she thinking of it as a competition? None of that mattered – there was no score to be had.

As she stroked Bram’s hair, she realized what the most important truth was.

She had never felt this way about Taelan, and she never could. He was her friend, and she loved him dearly; he meant more to her than anyone else in the world. But Colette was right – both of them needed to move on from this heartache, and then see where their friendship stood afterward.

“I’m sending word to Taelan,” she said softly.

Bram grew still.

“I…I think he should try to get reassigned, for a bit at least.”

She could feel him trying to keep his exhalation from becoming a sigh, and smiled slightly.

“Are you…alright?”

“I will be,” she whispered. “I don’t want to lose him – I can’t, but…I think it will be worse for him if I ask him to stay.”

Bram nodded.

She spent an hour on her missive, which one of the scouts would take to the Basin camp the next time a trip was made, probably the next morning.

Now that she’d made a decision, and her heart wasn’t suffering quite as much, she had indeed begun to think about all that had happened between them, in this new context he’d given her.

She had been living with the Anfalasen clan for almost two years, and she and Taelan had been thick as thieves almost from the time she’d recovered from her self-inflicted injuries. She’d been wary of him at first, but he was so good-natured, always laughing, his manner put her at ease. And besides that, he’d saved her life, and she felt the least she could do in return was give him a chance.

After more than a year had passed, she began to suspect that he’d developed feelings for her, of some sort; he blushed where he hadn’t before, would sometimes get tongue-tied where he’d always been smooth and witty. They were young, she eighteen and he twenty, so under normal circumstances it would have likely been the natural way of things for them to at least consider each other in a romantic way.

But she was dismayed, at first – she didn’t know how she felt about romance, didn’t know if she had healed, or would ever heal, from what had happened. She hadn’t had any dalliances with anyone else at this point, keeping everyone but Taelan at arm’s length.

But he didn’t press the issue, and over time she thought that perhaps, if she were to try with anyone, it might as well be with him. She didn’t feel that attracted to him, but she couldn’t be sure that wasn’t a factor of her past; perhaps she could never feel very attracted to anyone.

One summer night, they’d both had a bit too much mead, although they were by no means drunk. When Taelan pulled her up from her seat by the fire to walk along the lake nearby, admiring the starlight, she knew what he intended, and she went anyway.

And it had played out exactly as she expected – some rather romantic words, and then a tentative embrace, which she allowed.

Then he kissed her. For one second, she only felt mildly pleasant, and she thought, perhaps she’d been afraid for nothing.

Then his arms went around her, just a little too tight, and his kiss became a little too insistent.

Suddenly she was out in the field again, with the Templars. Her heart raced, her skin prickled – she screamed against his mouth, struggled.

After a second or two of confusion he released her. She shoved him away and ran, to the water’s edge, and was sick. He tried to approach, and she backed away, afraid to even think about him touching her.

They hadn’t spoken for a few days; she’d slept away from the others, though it was colder out in the forest, at night. She didn’t want to have any human contact until she could be assured she was over what had happened.

When she finally approached Taelan again, tried to apologize, he’d shrugged it off, but she could tell he was hurt by her reaction. That’s when she’d told him about what happened to her. He’d had an idea, of course, given her state when he’d found her, her wounds still fresh. But he hadn’t realized the full context, and was horrified when he found out.

He started to apologize profusely, but she denied any need – she could have refused to walk out with him, she could have backed away when he held her hand, but she’d let it happen, and that was on her, she insisted.

He was doubtful, but allowed the matter to rest. Soon after, he’d told her flippantly that it was stupid of him to have done such a thing, considering he didn’t normally even care for women.

She’d been confused, at first, not really having seen him with anyone else, but took his claim at face value. And never since had she seen him with another woman, or even look at another woman, so she’d thought that confirmed what he’d said.

It occurred to her now that it was ironic, in a way – she’d been avoiding romantic encounters with men, although in general she was more attracted to them than women, whilst Taelan had been doing the opposite, albeit for different reasons. She sent up a prayer to Mythal that Taelan hadn’t avoided a real relationship with anyone, for her sake – she didn’t know if she could forgive herself for that, whether she was at fault or not.

But the sadder aspects of the situation aside, she had to consider the fact that he might have been…coveting her, physically and otherwise, when she thought she merely had his support as her best friend, with no undercurrents or ramifications beyond that.

They’d shared beds, bathed in the same area, and she’d always known he could be trusted to keep his back turned…but now she didn’t know.

His feelings needn’t call her trust for him into question…except that he’d betrayed it, by lying all this time.

A person couldn’t help how they felt; what if she’d had these feelings for Bram, and he didn’t return them? And they still had to work together? She’d just have to stuff it down and try not to think about it.

But what she wouldn’t do, was allow intimate situations to happen between them, where he was thinking of her as a friend, and she was thinking of him as something entirely different. She didn’t know exactly how she’d handle something like that, but it wouldn’t be with subterfuge. And she had to make Taelan understand this – she wasn’t ‘sending him away’ because he loved her. She was asking that they have time apart because she felt that his actions had betrayed their friendship.

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to come back to say goodbye…it was bound to be extremely difficult for them both. But did she want them to part without seeing him? She had no idea when they might meet again, although she hoped it wouldn’t be more than a couple of months, perhaps…

Finally, she felt she’d worded it the best she could, and rolled up the parchment. By this time, having sat at the desk for an hour, her side was throbbing, and Bram took the letter from her and delivered it to Dremyss, who was heading back to the Basin camp in the morning.

When Bram returned, Evra was already in the bed, not even bothering with pillows this time. She was content to lay flat, eyes closed – it was late anyway, she could probably just go to sleep soon.

She was tired in her bones, her muscles, but also in her heart.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)   
> (This is now my universal NSFW warning. Heh.)

Although the past few nights that she’d been sharing a bed with Bram, he’d been eager to repeat what he’d done that day during her bath, this night he merely lay next to her, kissed her on the cheek, and went to sleep, his arm draped carefully across her. He could tell she was exhausted.

But at some point she awoke, and it was hot – warmer than usual at night in the Basin. He’d taken his shirt off at some point in the night, probably half asleep, since he normally was careful to sleep clothed, so as not to make her feel uncomfortable.

As if the sight of his beautiful naked torso could upset her.

But he was right to use restraint, and she blessed him for it – he was being smarter about this than she was. So far the pace they’d taken had kept her from feeling nervous about anything. She berated herself mildly for being so ridiculous – having to trust his judgment, about her own feelings. But she’d never felt this much desire for anyone, not in her memory, and it was hard to exercise caution.

Hence her reaction when she realized that his shirtless form was sprawled next to her, and while most of their bodies weren’t touching, he’d caught her hand beneath his, against his chest.

Moonlight filtered in through the window that faced out into the forest, bathing them both in cool white light broken by the waving shadows of leaves.

She drank him in for a minute, her eyes roving over his pale skin, that dusting of freckles she so loved, the strong line of his jaw, the curl in his hair that was becoming more pronounced as it grew out a bit.

He was so pristine, compared to her. She looked like a tattered doll who’d been badly stitched up, yet he was smooth and unscarred…it was rather disheartening, but she tried not to be self-conscious about it, since he’d never expressed any distaste for her flaws.

No – there was one scar, she thought triumphantly. On his upper arm, a long one that ran across his bicep. Probably something he’d incurred while boating, no doubt.

Even the _source_ of his scars was more polite.

But no matter. She pulled her hand away gently, then slowly ran it up his arm, to his shoulder…she leaned over and put her lips to his neck, something she had never done so far. He was always working so hard to please her, and she never did anything for him. It wasn’t fair…

He awoke with a soft hum of pleasure, and when he turned his head to more fully expose his neck to her lips, she had to stifle a noise of her own as desire shot acutely through her. She gripped his shoulder, and gently applied her teeth to his neck.

He gasped, but a moment later pulled away.

“Ada, I’m sorry, I—I must have—”

“Shhh.”

“You…you don’t mind?”

“What about this makes you think I mind?” she replied with uncharacteristic sultriness.

He took a deep breath, and tentatively turned towards her, one hand on her hip, careful not to touch the injury at her side. Always so careful…

Boldly, she scooted closer to him, and slid one leg over him as she slipped one arm underneath his pillow, and wrapped the other around his back.

“My—ah!” He gasped again as she pressed against him just so, and when she felt him throb in response, she thought she might die of need.

But she knew he wouldn’t agree to _that_ just yet – not tonight. And he was right; there were still steps to be taken between what they _had_ done, and what they would soon do. She had to be patient, it was better that way. But so difficult…

As much as she wanted to use the strength of her legs to bring him more fully against her, she pulled back.

And instead, slid her hand between them, over his pants.

“Ada! You…you shouldn’t…” he was practically panting.

“I shouldn’t what? Touch you?” She was rather enjoying her own uncommon display of daring – uncommon, at least, in this context.

He could barely form words. “I…are you…are you sure you…”

She responded by gripping his length. His groan was all she could have wished, and she smiled in the moonlight as she slid her hand up, then down – she really had no idea what to do, but it seemed like a good start.

Accepting her actions as her answer, he did something that provided a severe setback to her aims of caution and patience.

He tentatively covered her hand with his, and began directing her movements.

She closed her eyes, bit her lip – she would never have thought something so simple could arouse her so much, but now her desire was a constant thrum throughout her body, as she let him show her how to touch him.

Soon even that was not enough. She wanted to feel him, without the barrier of cloth between her hand and his warmth.

She tried to reach for the buttons to his trousers, but as she suspected he might, he loosely grabbed her wrist.

“My darling, I don’t think you should—”

“Vhenan,” she whispered, then kissed him. “I know you’re trying to protect me, and I thank you. You do have more restraint than I, it’s true.” She kissed him again. “But please, I’m sure it’s alright, I promise. Okay?”

She thought his hand might have been shaking ever so slightly as he released her, and allowed her to unhook several of his buttons.

She had fibbed a little – she _was_ nervous. But not for the reasons he thought. She was afraid she wouldn’t know what to do, that she wouldn’t please him, that he would be disgusted with her efforts – she knew that last, at least, was an empty fear, but it still plagued her.

But she brushed them away, took a deep breath…

And wrapped her hand around him.

He made a pained noise, and immediately covered her hand with his, but didn’t move it; it almost seemed like a defense mechanism, as if he felt he’d be overcome.

She could understand that – she was a little overwhelmed herself.

He was warm, and smooth, and she could feel his need for her pulsing beneath her palm. He filled her hand, hard and heavy…

And she loved it. Gingerly, but with growing confidence, she slid her hand lightly down, then up. Seeming to gather his senses ever so slightly, he began directing her as he had before, and she closed her eyes.

She was so aroused she felt that if he touched her at all she would climax immediately – but this wasn’t about her. She had to focus on him.

She leaned up on her elbow, pulling it from beneath his pillow, and then gingerly rose to her knees, ignoring the twinge in her side. She didn’t really know if what she was about to do was right or wrong; her only source of information was stories overheard in camp, and her own experience with women, which didn’t really help.

She knew Bram was confused, but since she’d been more assertive than usual, he offered no resistance when she pushed him to the side, so he was on his back. She continued stroking, watching him carefully, reveling in the strained look on his face, his quiet moans.

His pulse grew stronger beneath her hand.

When his hand reflexively tightened over hers, she swiftly leaned over and took him in her mouth, just an inch, and drew hard right as he came.

He cried out, his other hand moving to rest on the back of her head.

She had been nervous about this part, but now she drank down his warmth with pleasure, a satisfied hum sounding in her chest.

When it was over, she gently withdrew her mouth, then her hand, and lay back down in the circle of his arm, which he held out for her, though he was still nearly gasping. The pain in her side registered a little more strongly now, but she cared little. It was worth it.

After a few minutes had passed and Bram had his breath back, Evra was still grinning into the moonlight.

“You’re terribly satisfied with yourself, aren’t you,” he said finally, his words teasing but his voice full of wonder and affection.

“Mhmm.”

He kissed her cheek, her forehead. “I…wasn’t expecting that. Any of it, but especially not…well.”

“I know, that’s what made it even more entertaining,” came her cheeky reply.

His chuckle was almost weary. “Perhaps now you see why I so enjoy doing such things for you.”

She turned to him, her smile softening. “I do. It makes me happy to make you feel good, to return some of the pleasure you’re always trying to give to me.”

He sighed and kissed her, then tucked her closer to him as he pulled his pants back aright.

Just as they were falling asleep, she felt his lips on her hair. “Ma vhenan, indeed,” she thought she heard him whisper. Her heart twisted, but she knew he didn’t know what it meant – it was just an endearment to him, like his “darling”. But that was alright – whatever he chose to call her was fine. As long as he held her like this.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Taelan didn’t come back; he sent a letter in return, which she got two days later when Dremyss came back with some supplies from the Basin camp. She walked to another platform to read it, hiding behind some crates so no one need witness her reaction, whatever it might be.

_“I totally understand and agree with you. In fact I’m surprised you haven’t come down from your perch specifically to murder me._

(She couldn’t help but laugh at this – this was more like the Taelan she had known and loved as her best friend all these years.)

_“But honestly, I think you’re right. Perhaps us being joined at the hip all these years has made it hard for me to move forward, as I should have done. And banishment is a light sentence for the wrong I’ve done you. I just want you to know I never…invaded your privacy. Not once. I may not have been able to control my stupid heart but I damn sure controlled my eyes._

_Hopefully when we meet again, you’ll be Mrs. Kenric, and I’ll be…well, I’ll be less stupid. We’ll see._

_Taelan”_

She cried when she read it, she couldn’t help herself. She may have resigned herself to their separation, she may be angry with him, but he was still her best friend, her only family. And this was goodbye for them – hopefully only temporary, but she couldn’t know that. What if something happened to one of them while they were apart, and they never got to fully reconcile?

Her heart twisted, and for a moment she felt ill. Suddenly she found herself doubting her decision, wanting to call him back, keep him with her. But it was too late for that – Dremyss had said Taelan left at the same time as him, heading south out of the valley.

She hadn’t been apart from him for more than a couple weeks in ten years. She didn’t know what she’d do without him. But she had to figure it out.

Because he was gone.

She managed to avoid everyone for a good half hour after she read the letter, but even when she emerged from her hiding spot, she knew her face betrayed her. Thankfully, Colette was the first one to see, and merely dragged her back behind the crates, offering her shoulder, which Evra gratefully accepted. She had never been much for public displays of emotion, but she supposed Colette wasn’t just anyone – she was now one of her closest friends, in addition to Harding, whose duties often kept her from being available. Plus, Harding was…very collected. It wasn’t quite conceivable to Evra that she would turn to her for emotional support.

Normally it was Taelan who provided that, when she occasionally needed it.

The thought sent her off again, and in the back of her mind she was embarrassed that Colette, whom she’d only known for a few weeks, had to see her like this. But she supposed there were extenuating circumstances, and she was glad Colette was being so comforting – otherwise she didn’t know what she’d do. She couldn’t go to Bram, obviously. She’d likely just have to wallow in her misery on her own.

Finally she had composed herself, and Colette ran and fetched a cloth from the basin in her tent, which Evra gratefully held to her puffy eyes for a minute or two.

“Now then, you’ll be alright, you’re strong, and you’ve got me, and Harding, and Bram – everything will be fine.”

Evra smiled weakly at her. “You know, I suspect you’re quite a bit younger than I am, you shouldn’t be having to give me so much support.”

“Nonsense, I’m 24, and you can’t be much older. So shush.”

“Yes ma’am,” Evra replied obediently, standing up from her perch atop one of the crates. “But in all seriousness… ma serannas, lethallan. I mean it.”

Colette beamed at her and gave her a little pat, then left. Evra wandered back to the hut, where she found Bram getting ready to walk out the door with a mysterious bundle, wrapped in a cloth.

“Ah! There you are. I was just coming to find you.”

“What’s all this?”

“Well, I know you were fond of bathing in the river, before, and since you’re up and about, I thought you might like to—”

He couldn’t finish with her mouth on his, but he didn’t seem to mind. She smiled against his lips. “That is absolutely what I need, thank you, vhenan.”

He took her hand and led her to the lift.

Twenty minutes later, they were in a secluded curve of the river; it ran much faster here than it did near the Basin camp, and there was only a small area that was deep enough to partially submerge but calm enough not to have to swim against the current the entire time.

He set down his bundle and unwrapped it, and she saw that there was a change of clothes for them both, along with some bread and cheese – and the bottle of wine from the cabin?

She blinked. And that wasn’t the only surprise.

At first she assumed that Bram would wait on shore for her, back turned, while she took her turn in the water.

She was mistaken.

He pulled her out into the river and began peeling off her clothes himself – in between kisses that were more passionate than what he usually initiated on his own. Perhaps her actions of the night before had given him more confidence that she felt safe with him, and that he needn’t restrain himself quite so much.

Whatever it was, she was quite pleased with the result, although when it came down to her underthings, for a moment she felt a little self-conscious. Why, she didn’t know – he’d seen her naked before, although it was just in the bath…

When she hesitated, he stopped, and pulled off his own shirt.

“Mythal preserve me,” she breathed, reaching out to run her hand up his chest. This was the first time she’d seen him like this out in the bright light, when there were no…extenuating circumstances, such as him having almost been eaten by a gurgut.

She’d seen quite a few Inquisition scouts and soldiers who were very proud of their physiques; many times in the training yard they felt the need to strip to the waist while sparring or training. None of them could hold a candle to Bram, in her opinion.

As she’d noticed the last time they’d been in the river together, he had strong arms that his somewhat fancy clothing did much to obscure. But now she could better see the taut muscles of his torso, thankfully without the excessive delineation that some men seemed to favor. But when she ran her hand over his stomach, she could feel the firm muscles beneath.

His cheeks were pink. “What are you exclaiming over, I’m nothing special…”

Her eyes flew to his, incredulity written on her face. “Are you mad? There’s never been anything more special in all of Thedas!”

As soon as she said it she felt foolish, and cleared her throat. “I mean…I…you’ve a very fine…oh, fenhedis.”

But then he was kissing her again, even more intensely than before, and only drew back so they could come up for air some time later.

“Gods, Ada, I…” he breathed.

“W-which gods,” she replied stupidly. He was so beautiful, and sweet, and…delicious…

“All of them.”

She giggled, claiming his lips more gently this time, and then before he realized what she was doing, she’d removed her top.

Then she immediately wound her arms around his neck, pressing her naked chest against his, and his expression as she slowly returned her mouth to his told her that his gratification might be even greater than hers.

He ran his hands over her back, and when his palm gently pressed against her lower back, pushing her into him, she gasped, immediately becoming aware of how hard he was.

He stepped back a little. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

But she followed, and when she lifted one leg to curve around his, he reached down to grab it, and suddenly his warmth was pushing deliciously against her, albeit with two layers of clothes in between.

Both of them made noises muffled by one another’s lips.

“Ma lath,” she breathed against his mouth, and his other arm tightened around her.

But after another minute of fevered kisses, he pulled back.

“We’re supposed to bathing, my darling.”

“Mmm can’t it wait,” she protested, breathless.

“I have a feeling you’ll change your mind in a few minutes.”

That got her attention, and she allowed him to disengage enough to grab the soap from the things on shore.

Much to her initial bewilderment, he asked to wash her hair; but knowing that he seemed to admire it, for whatever reason, she allowed it, and after getting her hair sufficiently wet, she washed herself while he began running soapy fingers through her locks.

But she soon lost interest in what she was doing, as he began massaging her scalp.

Her head fell back, and she nearly went to her knees in the hip-deep water, it was so supremely soothing.

“Where…where did you learn to do this,” she mumbled almost inaudibly.

He chuckled. “Well I didn’t, not exactly, but there’s a place just outside the University where I get my hair cut where they do this sort of thing, and I’ve been wondering if it’s just me that finds it so sublime or…”

“Mmmm, not just you,” she breathed.

When, regretfully, he was finished, she rinsed her hair, and the rest of her, and handed him the soap.

“You were right, I changed my mind, at least a little,” she joked as she wrung the water out of her hair, and began to head towards the blanket on shore to grab one of the towels. She was careful to keep her back turned; while she desperately wanted to look upon him without any clothes, she knew if she did she might practically force him to have sex with her right then and there. And this wasn’t the time.

 _It could be the time_ , an evil voice whispered…

She barely maintained her determination, until he emerged a minute later and grabbed his dry things from around her. But before she could get dressed, he took her clothes out of her hands.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back against his still-wet, warm chest, bending down to apply his lips to the bend of her neck.

She let her head fall to the side, and bit her lip when one hand slid up to weigh her breast.

“My darling…” he whispered, before gently nibbling on the edge of her ear.

“Y-yes?”

“Would you allow me…” his lips pressed to the pulse below her ear… “to taste you?”

She gasped. This she had not expected – it was something she’d experienced before, of course, but she never thought a man would want to…she’d heard of them doing so but with no experience of…

“Yes,” she breathed. Then, “if you’re sure you want to?”

“Believe me, I’ve been wanting to for some time.” He was planting kisses along her shoulder, but then he nudged her toward the blanket.

She knelt on it obediently, heart pounding, already finding it a little hard to breathe. He had gotten his dry pants on, but they were damp since he hadn’t dried off first…the outline of his—

He kissed her again as he knelt before her, then gently pushed her back onto the blanket.

When he spread her legs, so slowly and carefully, she thought she would disintegrate, her desire was throbbing so powerfully.

Then he slid his fingers into her, a welcome, now familiar pressure, and she raised her hips to meet him. He bent down, and she immediately threaded her fingers through his damp copper hair.

His lips on her heat – it felt more shockingly good than she was prepared for, and she cried out, then pressed her free hand against her mouth.

He reached up and pulled it away.

“No one is out here to hear us,” he whispered against her, and she shivered. “Be as loud as you like…”

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she felt him smile.

His tongue…she should have known how skilled it would be, given the way he kissed. And the whole time, his fingers pressing, pushing…

After a minute or two, she relinquished her hold on his hair briefly, to reach down, and spread herself apart for him.

As soon as she did it she realized…maybe things were different when you were with a man – maybe you weren’t supposed to—

But he groaned with obvious pleasure, and applied his mouth even more effectively.

Her cries and whimpers seemed to bring him great enjoyment, and she thought it was the first time that she’d made noises with abandon, fully reflecting the pleasure she felt.

Within a scant few minutes more, she felt her orgasm approaching, and she encouraged it with deep breathes, her hips lifting against his mouth, and he made a noise of encouragement – or entreaty, she couldn’t tell which.

“Ah! Vhenan…please….”

And then she came, trembling, shards of ecstasy exploding within her, an animal wail escaping her lips. Through the haze of her climax she felt him make a noise of deep satisfaction, his tongue still against her, and another pulse rippled through her.

When her shaking had subsided, he grinned with obvious gratification as he moved up to lay next to her, again pulling her into the circle of his arm.

She threw one leg over him, exhausted, and was silent for a moment as her breathing calmed.

“You can’t be good at _everything_ ,” she said finally. “Surely there’s something…that you’re just…mediocre at.”

She felt his chuckle against her cheek. “I’m terrible at cooking,” he answered ridiculously, and she gave a tired snort. “My handwriting is atrocious as well.”

“Yes I’ve seen that, but that’s not—”

“Oh and you’ve somehow avoided seeing me on a horse, but it’s really embarrassing. At least, so I’m told; I stay on top of it just fine. Usually. So I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Nonsensical man.”

“No, I assure you, my seat has been described as ‘reprehensible’,” he insisted, and she sighed and shook her head, as much as she was able in her position.

“Very well, I concede, you aren’t good at everything. Just…” She turned and set her chin on her hand atop his chest so she could look at him. “Just everything to do with me.”

“Perhaps…we’re good for each other?” he asked quietly, his expression suddenly sober.

She kissed his chin and flopped back down. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so worn out by any sort of lovemaking…then again, she didn’t really want to remember any of the other times. Not anymore.

But something had been gnawing at her. Not a suspicion, exactly, because it was none of her business; his past was his own, and she had no right to pry into it, and especially not hold any of it against him.

But she felt sure the only way for someone to become as skilled at pleasing a woman as he was…was practice.

And if that were the case? What did it matter? She’d certainly had her share of partners. Not multitudes, but a few.

Perhaps this was why it bothered her. None of the partners she’d had prepared her to do anything for him. Yes, so far her fumbling attempts had gone well. But that was just it – she was guessing, most of the time, whereas he clearly knew exactly what he was doing. If she could reciprocate properly, perhaps she wouldn’t be so concerned about his other partners.

Now that she actually focused on this fact, she realized another truth. She wasn’t jealous of his past partners, not exactly. But she felt cast in the shade by them, ashamed that she was such a novice, when surely he’d had partners himself who were just as skilled as he.

Scenarios crept unbidden to her mind, of pristine noble ladies, their self-confidence unimpeachable, their powers of seduction unparalleled. Smooth ivory skin; perfect, unscarred bodies. How clumsy he must think her, how…frayed…

She hadn’t meant to let these negative thoughts intrude on such a wonderful moment, and suddenly she felt bad about that too.

Why was she being so maudlin? Normally she didn’t care so much about her appearance. And attracting the notice of other women had never been difficult; if she were honest, repulsing the attentions of men had been more of a problem.

So why was Bram any different?

Well, that was a stupid question. He was many things, and almost none of those things were in common with any other men she knew.

Intelligent, learned, cultured, refined. Sweet, gentle, kind.

Impressed by her mental and physical prowess, rather than feeling intimidated or repulsed by either.

Several men of her acquaintance felt the need to challenge her abilities at every turn; as if she had to pass some imaginary test of their devising in order to be seen as capable. Bram would never even think of such a thing.

A dark thought occurred to her. Was it perhaps only because of these stark differences that she cared about him? Because he had all these qualities that others did not?

But would she care about that, if they were not the qualities she _wanted_? Needed, even? She didn’t think so.

And never once in her adult life had she felt the slightest drive to do any of the things she’d done with him. She’d met attractive men, of course – even more since joining the Inquisition, since she came into contact with so many different people so often. Some of them had even glanced her way, brushed her hand, paid her compliments. And she’d feel the flush of arousal, attraction, just as she did with women.

But anytime she even contemplated sharing any intimacy with them, she recoiled. Well, she did so for many years; for the past few it had been more of a conscious denial. A staunch assurance that none of them was worth breaking her long ‘fast’ so to speak. Of course, that fear was always with her – that she would decide, finally, to be intimate with a man, and it would end in disaster. But not a single one she’d come across had inspired her with any inclination to make an attempt.

Not until him.

Finally she raised her head to look at him; thankfully he hadn’t noticed her long introspection. His hand was stroking her drying hair, his eyes on the leaves dancing above them in the breeze.

Her heart swelled.

She surprised him when she rose slightly to slide fully across him, straddling him, but when he protested – as she’d known he would, out of concern of moving too fast – she just smiled and put her fingers over his lips.

“Shh. I’m not trying to…well, I suppose I _am_ naked,” she laughed as she realized how suggestive her actions were.

She leaned down, bracing herself on her arms on either side of him, and kissed his face. His beautiful cheekbones, his strong jaw with a hint of stubble, the corner of his eye.

He sighed with contentment and slid his arms around her, now understanding what her intention actually was.

She settled against him, her head in the curve of his shoulder, and quickly fell asleep.


	26. Chapter 26

She woke twice to twigs breaking in the brush or a bird singing a little too close – her elven ears too perceptive and scout’s reflexes too acute to keep her from being at least very slightly aware of her surroundings, out in the open as they were.

But she merely smiled and closed her eyes again, the sun warm against her back, casting dappled shadows and lulling her back to sleep.

But eventually she was fully awoken by a different noise, and she leaned up and looked at Bram with raised eyebrows.

“What! I forgot to eat this morning,” he explained sheepishly as his stomach let out another growl.

She shook her head as she rolled off him, then started dressing. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long, professor,” she teased. “I have a feeling forgetting to eat and sleep when you’re on the trail of some historical revelation is a common habit of yours.”

He coughed. “Well, umm…it is… _possible_ , that Colette has scolded me for such things on more than one occasion,” he admitted.

“Well thank Mythal for her then.”

She closed her eyes for a moment when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

“Perhaps…we could consider that one of your duties as my advisor, hmmm? You know, in the future?”

She stilled. She’d been so diligent in not thinking of it, not speaking of it. And then he had to say something.

They hadn’t even made love yet, and already she had to consider the end.

“What have I said?” he asked immediately, somehow minutely attuned to her changes in posture, the sudden tenseness in her back. “I didn’t mean I actually consider you to be—”

“Bram, no, that’s not…” She sighed, and was dismayed when her breath caught. He released her, but turned her around and regarded her face with worry. “I just…I wish you wouldn’t speak of it.”

“Speak of what? Of the University position? Or—oh.” His face fell to a dramatic degree, and Evra’s heart constricted to see it. “You mean…I see.”

He dropped his arms from around her, and began gathering the food he’d just set out, slowly repacking the bundle he’d made with the blanket.

“Bram? I…I’m sorry, I just would rather we didn’t…”

She ran her hands through her hair with a noise of frustration.

“It’s fine, Ada. I’m sorry I brought it up – I didn’t…understand the situation, clearly.”

“What?” She was bewildered. _He_ hadn’t understood the situation? That didn’t make any sense.

He stopped what he was doing and straightened, but didn’t face her.

“I assumed that…that you would wish to…” He broke off, and unknowingly echoed her gesture, his fingers mussing his curling copper hair. “I suppose I thought you would want this to continue, as I do, and I apologize for assuming. We should get back.”

Now it was she who wrapped her arms about him, leaning her head against his back. “Bram of _course_ I…I wish that we could…but how can we?” She knew she wasn’t being very coherent, but she couldn’t quite make full sentences. “You know there’s no way to…imagine me going back to Orlais!” She didn’t think her voice had ever sounded as bitter as it did then. “And I wouldn’t try to keep you from your work…”

A great deal of tension suddenly drained out of him, and he turned and practically crushed her to him, as if letting her go would let her slip away forever.

She was shocked – surely vocalizing the reason they could never be together should have made him more upset, not less? Although she couldn’t deny a thrill of happiness had bloomed in her chest at what he’d said. He wanted a future for them. She wished for this more than anything, but had never allowed herself to think of it.

“Bram, what—”

“Ada,” he breathed against her hair. “Promise me you won’t…do anything rash? Until we can at least discuss…what’s going to happen?”

Confused, slightly giddy at his manner, yet still trying to avoid getting her hopes up, she nodded. “I promise.”

“Thank you. Now that I’ve disarranged our lunch, will you help me get the blanket unfurled again? Or would you prefer to go back to the hut?”

She shook her head and assisted him. She could live out here with him forever, for all she cared.

Well, that wasn’t true – beds could be quite useful.

She regarded him for a moment as he replaced the bread and cheese on the blanket, and began pouring the wine into wooden cups.

Suddenly she was ashamed of herself. If what they had really was important to him as it was to her…how could she just assume it would end, with no fight whatsoever? It wasn’t like her to just give up. To accept an outcome as inevitable. Especially when the feelings of someone she loved were on the line.

As soon as she thought it she blushed fiery red and looked away, her stomach in knots. But it was true – she’d known it for some time, so why shy away from it? And if he was so intent on keeping them together in the long term, then perhaps…

But that didn’t matter. She did love him, and she had to tell him. She didn’t want to continue as they were without letting him know the truth. After what happened with Taelan…she was determined to be as honest as possible with Bram.


	27. Chapter 27

When they returned to camp an hour or so later, they were shocked to find supplies being packed and set down in the lift. Horses from the Basin camp were tied up at the bottom. The few scouts that had remained here, including Dremyss and Simmons, were busy as bees.

“Ah! Good, you’ve returned,” Dremyss addressed Evra, leaving the horse he was loading. “Scout Harding has instructed us to head back to Basin camp – the Inquisitor finally defeated that dragon, and most of us are being reassigned in the next few days.”

Evra blinked, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Usually she enjoyed each reassignment – a chance to see a new place, observe new cultures. But now…

Was she to be removed from Bram’s arms just as they were contemplating the future? Surely she could speak to Harding…but what would she tell her? That she no longer wanted to be a scout?

But Dremyss was going on. “She gave leave for you and the professor to remain a couple more days,” he said, to her intense relief, which she hoped he couldn’t easily see in her face. “To finish up whatever he’s working on and pack up his notes. Colette’s to come back with us and begin packing up the cabin, though.”

Evra blushed; it was patently obvious that Lace had arranged it so she and Bram could have the camp to themselves for a bit. But she supposed it didn’t matter; the others all knew what was going on – they’d been sharing the hut for the past couple of weeks, and hadn’t been exactly circumspect about how they interacted outside of it.

She looked up to find Dremyss grinning. He held out his hand, and she took it with a self-conscious smile.

“In case I don’t see you…good luck, with everything,” he said, his gaze darting ever so briefly to Bram.

“Thank you, Dremyss. Hope you get assigned somewhere decent, and not the Hissing bloody Wastes.”

He gave a shout of laughter at that – their positions there had overlapped for a couple of weeks back then, and they had shared a few complaint sessions about the desert area.

She and Bram rode the lift back up and began helping with the supplies until Colette called for her help with something.

“So…I hope you’ll be okay here, just the two of you?” Colette asked her in a strange voice.

Suddenly it occurred to Evra that perhaps the instructions they’d received had made Colette feel her position had been truly usurped, and that she was being removed from the camp unfairly.

“Colette, if you would prefer to stay here and help the professor, I will just go back, I’m the scout after all, I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ev!” her friend brushed aside her offer. “I’ll do a much better job of packing up the professor’s things than either of you would, anyway,” she insisted, “and you needn’t worry for me, a few of the scouts should be staying at the camp semi-permanently so I won’t be alone.”

“Well we should be just behind you, Colette, it’s not as if we’re saying goodbye for months,” Evra protested.

“Well, you just come along when…whenever you’re ready,” Colette insisted with a decisive nod.

“Umm…alright then.”

“Anything you want me to tell Harding?”

Evra shook her head. There were things she wanted to tell Taelan, she thought, her heart sinking for a moment. But that was no longer an option.

Colette embraced her, then blushed suspiciously when Simmons took her bags to the lift.

Perhaps the statuesque Simmons was one reason why Colette was so resigned to being sent along with the others…interesting.

Suddenly Evra felt guilty for not having paid more attention to what was going on with her friend; Colette had been there for her several times in their short friendship, and she hadn’t even noticed she’d got a crush on one of the scouts. Reprehensible.

“Colette!” she called out before the elf stepped onto the platform. She hurried over and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Make sure you tell me of any….developments. When I join you.”

“Oh! Off with you,” Colette replied with a flustered flush, and Evra smiled, her suspicions confirmed. She stepped back from the platform, and almost giggled with glee when Simmons put a hand under Colette’s elbow to steady her as the lift lurched away, and Colette blushed a fiery red. Adorable.

Within an hour, the camp was silent, most of the supplies gone, the rest, along with a few rolled up tents, stored in the other small hut.

They were alone.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“I was wondering—”

“Perhaps we should—”

They both spoke at once, and trailed off, laughing a little awkwardly. But why should this be awkward? Just because no one was around any longer?

“You first,” Evra said softly, closing with him and sliding a hand around his neck.

He took a deep breath. “I was…thinking, before all this came about—”

“’All this’ as in…?”

“Everyone retreating,” he said ruefully.

“Ah. Yes?”

“I know you were supposed to start doing some physical activity again, slowly, and I thought you might…well, it could be useful if…”

“Bram.”

“Do you think you could teach me how to fight?”

She blinked. This was not what she had expected. “What? Why?”

He sighed. “I…feel very useless, sometimes,” he admitted. “I’ve never seen any use in it before, but if we’re out here I the wilderness, I should—”

“Well, Bram, you heard what Dremyss said; we won’t be out here much longer, I mean if it’s not something you really care for there’s no need—”

“I’m well aware that you can protect us both,” he said with a little laugh, and she turned red and looked away. She wasn’t ashamed of her skills, by any means, but did feel rather self-conscious that she was always running in to save him. It wasn’t very feminine, or ladylike.

“I didn’t mean that as an insult, my darling. You may have noticed I have nothing but admiration for your martial abilities.”

Her eyes returned to his. “What do you want me to teach you?”

He shrugged. “I suppose I’m not about to punch a gurgut, but…just…whatever you think might be useful?”

She smiled. “Very well. And yes that might be a good way for me to regain my full strength.”

“Good. So.”

“So.”

“This is ridiculous,” he chuckled. “Do you want to help me finish our latest section of Ameridan’s notes before it gets dark? I would like to get through the whole thing before we return to the bustle of camp but I doubt we have time for that.”

She assented, and they spent a few hours working through the journal, her input invaluable as usual, at least Bram seemed to think so.

Once it grew dark, they ate the last of the stew from yesterday’s dinner; after that it was only dried fruit and meat, and bread and cheese, but Evra was fine with such simple fare. She feared Bram was accustomed to much better, but he had weathered the conditions out here quite well so far. Perhaps it didn’t bother him too much.

After that, Evra’s stomach immediately clenched, and she struggled to fight off twelve thousand butterflies.

She ran her hand over the furs on the bed. “I should go to the hold and thank Arne Rofsen for the bed,” she said randomly.

“Yes, he was quite helpful. Called it “kostr rekkja”… I guess something to do with recovery? I wasn’t familiar with the term. Meant to look it up later and forgot.”

Evra suspected it meant something else, knowing Rofsen, but she couldn’t be sure.

“But…you sound distracted.”

“Bram, I need to tell you something,” she said abruptly, and pulled him down to sit on the bed with her.

He looked taken aback, but just regarded her with concern.

“It’s…it’s not bad, I just…I don’t know how to…” Gods, she was an idiot. Who didn’t know how to just say words? _Spit them out, girl!_

She cleared her throat, and fiddled with his fingers where they were linked with hers.

“After everything that happened with Taelan, I…it’s very important to me to be…honest, with you, at all times.”

“Understandable, and appreciated…”

She swallowed. Her stomach did fifteen somersaults. “So…we spoke about the future a little earlier today, and obviously Harding thinks…well.”

He gave a little laugh. “Yes, indeed.”

“I just need you to know…before we go any further, before we speak of things to come…that I…”

Mythal’enaste! Why couldn’t she just say it?

Finally she forced herself to look him in the eye.

“I love you.”

He gave a great sigh of relief, and a soft smile crossed his face. With one hand behind her neck, he brought her forward and kissed her gently.

“Ada…” he whispered, and she could hear his smile in his voice, still. “Do you know why I started calling you ‘my darling’?”

This was a strange response to such a confession as she’d made, but she shook her head.

“It was because I was afraid I’d blurt out ‘my love’ on accident, and I literally trained myself to call you darling instead while you were asleep.”

Her eyes widened. But surely he wasn’t saying he’d…

“I realized I loved you when you kissed me,” he said quietly, searching her eyes. “I probably loved you even before that, but didn’t know it.”

She came perilously close to crying as she leaned forward to kiss him again. “Absolutely ridiculous man,” she whispered when she pulled away. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“How could I? I was trying to be so careful, and blurting out such strong feelings for someone after such a short time is hardly…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with chagrin. But then he looked at her.

“I have to tell you, my love – Maker, what a relief to just say it finally!” Her heart felt like it would float away, but she merely gazed at him with her feelings laid bare on her face, and waited for him to continue. “Your confession wasn’t exactly a surprise to me…”

“What? Why?” Had she mumbled something in her sleep??

“I think you’ve forgotten some of the translations you’ve done. From Ameridan’s journal.”

“Ah. Well – but vhenan doesn’t necessarily translate to—”

“You called me ‘ma lath’ earlier today.”

Her eyes widened. “I…I did? And you…” Even though she’d confessed her feelings, she blushed to think she’d blurted them out in such a way without even realizing it. “I guess I thought your grasp of the elven language was much more tenuous than it is,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “I gathered that.” He pulled her back into his arms, but this time just cradled her head against his shoulder, and she closed her eyes and sighed with contentment as the night grew deeper around them.

But after a few minutes, she slid her hand up to encircle his neck, and pressed a slow kiss below his ear. She heard his intake of breath, felt the slight tightening of his arms around her. Before he realized what she was doing, she’d moved to straddle his lap, and as he readjusted his embrace she claimed his lips with all the insistence she was beginning to feel deep in her abdomen.

Maker, how she treasured the little noises he made when she pleased him…

Then he slid his hands underneath her legs and shifted her slightly in his lap—

She gasped, her softness again coming to rest over his hard length, and this time she knew they wouldn’t be stopping there. This time she would feel him as she’d longed to, have him in the way she’d waited weeks for. She wouldn’t let him stop her. But something told her he knew she was ready; the way his tongue slipped inside her mouth, the way his hands gripped her hips and pressed her against him.

Soon most of her clothes were on the floor, along with his, and they stood for a moment to finish with buttons and laces, until not a shred of clothing remained between them. He pulled her close to him as he lifted her chin for his kiss. She felt his heat against her belly, and gripped his back, pulling him closer.

He turned them, pushed her back down on the bed, and spread her legs; but he wasn’t doing what she expected…

He bent his head once more, as he had that afternoon, and liberally applied his tongue.

She cried out when it passed over her clit, and he looked up, and slowly, deliberately, made his way back up, teasing it until she moaned for him to stop.

He did, reluctantly. “Why?”

“I…I don’t want to…” she tried to vocalize her reluctance to finish before they’d even really gotten started.

“Ah. But I _do_ want you to…” and lowered his head again. This time, before he returned his attentions to her clit, he slid his tongue inside her, again, and again, and the sensation of it made her want to cry.

When he moved back upward and suckled her gently, she couldn’t hold back, and without even his fingers within her, she came with a tortured whimper, and he made a noise of satisfaction before he pulled back, wiping his mouth.

“W-what was…that for…” she panted, trying to pull him down toward her, but he resisted.

“Well, because I wanted to, for one,” he said, his tone lower than she’d ever heard it, sending a thrill down her spine. “And because…I wanted to make sure I won’t hurt you.”

A deep throb echoed between her legs. He meant…that she had to be wet, in order to…oh _gods_.

His voice was a little more hesitant when he spoke again, as he began pulling her hand to lift her from the bed, confusing her a little. “And…I’m not sure if you’ll…I mean, I want to make sure you’re taken care of, even if…”

“Bram. I don’t care about that,” she insisted; although she had never been more aroused than she was right now, she hadn’t really expected to have an orgasm, and it didn’t bother her in the least. “I just want…I want you…” She swallowed, and leaned into him, unable to say it above a whisper. “I just want you inside me, vhenan.”

He groaned, and kissed her again as he turned them around.

“If you don’t mind, my love—” she would never get tired of hearing it—“I just…think it might be better this way…the first time.”

“Oh…I…I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about—”

“Don’t be sorry, about anything that happens. Everything you do pleases me,” he murmured softly.

And then he swiftly reached down, picked up her legs, and sat down on the edge of the bed with her straddling his lap. She thought she would die of hunger when he pulled her down slightly, her warmth settling on him.

He began kissing her neck. “You have more control this way,” he whispered in her ear before gently tugging the edge of her ear between his teeth.

She just nodded her assent – she had no problem at all with whatever position he wanted to put her in. She didn’t understand exactly about control but she would take his word for it.

Her heart was beating so hard and fast she thought it might climb right out of her chest, and the pounding echoed below.

He reached between them, and she lifted up slightly so he could position himself at the entrance to her heat.

Then he put his other hand to her face. “Adahlena,” he whispered. “My beautiful champion, my goddess, my love…”

Tears sprang to her eyes not just at his words, but at the reverent look on his face.

“Please, promise me – if you want this to stop, you’ll tell me?”

She nodded silently, and then, before he could say anything else, she slid down on him.

She sucked in a breath, biting her lip as she slid down further.

Maker’s breath…she’d never expected it to feel like this. This _good_. He was so warm and hard inside her, two inches, then three…

It did hurt, but he was right – what he’d done with his mouth had made her slick, and though it seemed he couldn’t fit, he did.

She kept going; he half-heartedly, breathlessly tried to slow her, concerned about hurting her, but she put her mouth over his, gently biting his lip.

His arms were around her, holding her close to him, their bodies melding together.

Then she took a deep breath…

And pushed herself down until his hips met her inner thighs.

“My…my love…” he panted, his hands tight at her waist, her back, but she barely registered his words.

She thought surely he’d been wrong when he’d guessed she wouldn’t climax. She had never felt anything this good in her life.

That is, until a second later, when he seemed to lift his hips slightly, and at the same time pushed hers back just a little.

She cried out; he did it again, and immediately she grabbed his shoulders and began making the movements herself. She began to be more confident in her position, planting her knees firmly on the bed, using her strong leg muscles to repeat the motion he’d shown her.

 _Such_ pressure – his fingers had echoed this feeling, but it couldn’t compare to this. So deep, and that pulse she’d felt beneath her hand before, now she could feel it within her.

Already she thought she would die from the pleasure, and she didn’t even feel like she was close to a climax. This ecstasy just thrummed all through her like a drum, every time she moved, building and swelling. Even if she didn’t come, she didn’t care; this was beautiful, better than she’d ever dreamed.

Bram seemed barely able to breathe, and as her movements grew a little more forceful, he tried to stop her, or at least slow her down.

“ _Maker_ , Ada, I can’t—”

“Don’t you like it,” she whispered into his ear, her breath coming in short gasps.

“I—I like it too much, my love,” he groaned as she began to move slightly faster.

“Please, vhenan…” she whimpered into his ear as she felt his grip tighten on her; she knew what would happen, and she wanted it, _needed_ it.

Suddenly he grabbed her hips, and pulled her down on him, hard—

And swelled inside her as he came, his warmth filling her, his whole body tensing in her arms.

Her cry of pleasure mingled with his, she clutched him to her until he relaxed, and laid back on the bed with her atop him.

She noticed there were tears in her eyes, and suddenly she had to choke back a sob.

“Ada! My love?” Bram asked urgently, stroking her hair.

She took a deep breath and tried to speak in a steady voice. “I’m just…I love you so much my heart hurts—” Her voice broke again.

He sighed with relief, and turned to kiss the side of her face that he could reach.

“I sound so stupid – like a romance novel,” she gave a little laugh, and sniffled.

“No…you sound like…” He withdrew from her then – she bit her lip – and moved them a little so they were laying properly on the bed, and turned to face her, pulling her leg over him and drawing her close again.

“You sound like the woman I…” he closed his eyes and took a breath.

She moved her hand from his back to his face. “Bram?” What was wrong? Had she said something she shouldn’t? He didn’t seem angry with her…or disappointed, or…

“This is the most inappropriate and ridiculous time to ask this,” he mumbled, “but—no, I can’t!” he interrupted himself, and turned away from her slightly, staring at the ceiling. “I’ll just…it ruins everything. Ah! I’ve already ruined everything, this is what comes of blurting things out, I should have just told you I loved you and been done with it, and now I’ve made a mess of—mm!”

She’d kissed him, a smile on her lips; she didn’t know what he was rambling about, but his rambling was supremely adorable to her.

“You’re very precious,” she whispered when she pulled back. “You haven’t made a mess of anything. Naturally now I’m dying of curiosity but I can wait, since you clearly don’t want to get into it at the moment. Now be a darling and pull the blanket up so we can go to sleep.”

“Yes, my love,” he said obediently, and did as she requested.

Once they were beneath the light cover, nestled together as lovers should be, their legs entwined, she spoke again, quietly.

“I’m assuming from the end result that I…I did alright?”

She hated to sound so…needy, for reinforcement, affirmation, but she’d been so nervous that she wouldn’t please him…

“Look at me,” he demanded seriously, pulling away from her so he could regard her in the failing candlelight. “Nothing that has ever happened to me, has been more important, or more beautiful, or more sublime. You were…you _are_ magnificent.”

She blushed, and nestled her face back into his neck. She wasn’t sure what to say – how to verbalize that impossibly warm, happy feeling in her chest? That feeling of absolute perfection in the world? Impossible.

“I…I’m glad I chose you, Bram Kenric,” she whispered hesitantly.

His arms encircled her a little more closely. “As am I, ma lath. As am I.”


End file.
